Journey Beyond the Past
by Kendra B
Summary: What do you do when all you love is gone? Where do you turn? Who do you trust? Can you ever love again? And what of secrets that were long thought locked away come back to haunt you?
1. Default Chapter

Title: Journey Beyond the Past  
  
Author: Kendra  
  
Rating: R  
  
Pairing: Will Turner/OFC  
  
Archive: Please ask first  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, am just there for the visit. The Mouse owns it all.  
  
~~*~~  
  
The luminous echoes of heat lightning upon the water's surface quenched its fateful kiss against the midnight sky in the distance.  
  
Etched upon many a fitful night, Will Turner stood on the small, weatherworn porch, the warm tropical breeze cooling sweat soaked skin. Bred of memories he wished to long since banish but unable to clear even the lightest inclination from his unconscious. Sleep that was uninterrupted eluded him once again this night.  
  
Roughly raking his hands through long, sleep tousled hair, the dark-haired young man took a steadying breath, easing the burning of his lungs with tangy salt air.  
  
It had been nearly two years. Two years and yet the loss, the memories, the pain, were still as gripping now, as they were when brought to fruition. The day his world was torn from beneath his feet-the day his beloved Elizabeth died while giving birth to his son.  
  
That was the darkest day of memory. The day he stopped living and only existed.  
  
No, that's not quite accurate. The moment Will Turner gave up his life, his dreams, his fire, his future, was the moment Governor Swann fled Port Royal with his infant grandson, sailing back to England without mercy or note given to the child's father-Will Turner.   
  
~~*~~  
  
Catherine Kent had spent more than enough time in Port Royal to realize that if she did not move quickly, she would forfeit her future. It would be either the Crown or the disreputable that would lay claim to the only income her late husband had left to the young woman after his untimely death.  
  
Pushing open the shutters of the inn's room in which she now stayed, Catherine glanced to the docks below and spied the 'Engloria' gently rocking on the waves, illuminated by the moon's low glow.  
  
Sighing softly, her thin nightdress billowing gently with the incoming breeze from the harbor, the woman with hair the color of golden wheat, a smattering of barely visible freckles along the bridge of her nose due to sun exposure, watched her ship with worry. Everyone she had recently met since her arrival were either thinking she was dumb because of her sex, helpless, or an easy mark.  
  
Catherine Kent-Hyde was none of the above. Only thrust to the forefront of a situation that was not of her making. While she tried with every breath to make the circumstances work, there seemed to always be an even bigger obstacle in her way than the time before. Now she was at her wits end and last chance, and things looked bleak.  
  
However, there was one possible option she had left and that was a very chancy gamble. But at the moment, her hands were tied and she'd battle the Devil himself if she must.  
  
Tomorrow morning the stubborn woman would make the trek to the far side of the island where the rocky cliffs overlooked hidden coves. Or so that is where some of the more unsavory of the island's inhabitants had whispered for her to go for the price of coin. After all, she could hardly afford to outfit a ship, let alone hire a captain and crew, but this is where they had directed her as a last resort to seek out that endeavor. Little did Catherine know, those men she had paid for their advice and help had surely thought to send her on a fool's folly for they laughed soundly after her departure.  
  
There was one man left who might be her saving grace, but this was only in dealing with his past exploits and history-not of his current state of mind, or so she was told. All Catherine could hope for was a miracle or a pirate's greed. At this point in time, she'd take either.  
  
~~*~~  
  
The sun was sweltering, the winding road both hazardous and steep. Not for the first time did Catherine Kent nearly slide to her backside upon stepping on stones that were loose.  
  
"Bloody rocks," Catherine muttered, arms flailing to keep her balance as she continued to climb the meandering path to the cottage now within her sight.  
  
Shielding her eyes from the sun, the blonde-haired woman finally stepped into the clearing, glancing about for any signs of life, yet finding none.  
  
Biting back the curse, which threatened to break free, she approached the cottage, stepping upon the porch then nearly falling on her backside as a loosened floorboard rocked in her wake. Turning back to see what had caused her to trip, Catherine glared momentarily at the offending item before the soft crunch of boot heel to grass made her turn suddenly in that direction.  
  
"This is private property, Miss." A male voice uttered in annoyance. The young woman, quite startled, stepped backwards onto the loose board without thought. The movement nearly sent her tumbling backside first off the porch before strong arms quite unexpectedly clutched her about the waist, keeping her from falling from the porch onto the stony ground.  
  
Feeling slightly flustered at making such an entrance and momentarily wishing she'd taken the advice of the innkeeper and hired an escort to accompany her up to the cottage. Catherine brushed aside the tendrils of hair that had fallen into her eyes so she could better see who exactly was helping her. Or to be more exact, who was still holding her tightly about the waist even after being lowered from the porch to solid ground.  
  
"Thank you," she managed to reply, hoping not to sound the idiot.  
  
It was then she got her first good look at the man who was just an arm's length away. He was tall and tanned from many a long day out in the sun. His hair, which was past his shoulders, was hap-hazardly pulled back in a leather tie. The beard he wore was one that spoke of a man who chose to shave only when the thought occurred, and from the amount of hair upon his chin and cheeks, it looked to have been a good long month since he'd seen the likes of a straight razor. But it was the eyes that made her nearly catch her breath for they were the darkest brown she'd ever seen. They almost seemed jewel-like, and hidden beneath those alluring depths was a man who looked to be drowning.  
  
With a nod of his head, the man pulled away and it was then she noticed his hands were rough, well callused, used to hard work. "Once again, Miss, this is private property. I ask you to leave," he insisted, brushing the sweat off his brow with the cuff of his shirt which was rolled up to the elbow-as if he'd been caught in the midst of work.  
  
"Mr. Turner? Mr. Will Turner?" Catherine questioned, but the man before her acted as if the name was of no importance to him and only turned to look at the crystalline blue water that reached as far as the eye could see.  
  
"Who is he to you?"  
  
Using her discarded hat, which had been removed upon her journey uphill, Catherine slowly fanned the air, hoping to cool herself even in the slightest. "I've come to proposition Captain Will Turner on a very important matter."  
  
Chuckling lowly, the dark-haired man before her placed his hands on his hips and turned to look at the woman before him. "Miss, I don't know a Captain Will Turner, but if I did, I could completely assure you that a proposition of that nature would surely surprise even him. It's been a long time...or so I've heard, but I'm rather sure he'd never pay for a lady's...services," he grinned momentarily as Catherine blushed furiously at her foible of words.  
  
"It is not matters of the flesh, but matters of a financial proposition in regards to a job I wish to discuss with Mr. Turner," she quickly corrected, straightening her shoulders and looking him in the eyes.  
  
"Don't know no Will Turner," he shot back, turning to leave. "Be off with you, leave this property."  
  
"Mr. Turner, I will pay you handsomely to captain my ship," she loudly baited. Hoping she was correct in that he truly was the man she'd sought out, and that he'd automatically stop at the calling of his name after brushing her aside-which he unconsciously did.  
  
Bowing his head, staring at the ground for a minute, the dark-haired man still refused to look back. "I will make it well worth your time, Mr. Turner. You mention the price, I will gladly meet the offer-within reason of course," she quickly added, not quite sure if his jesting earlier was truth or lie.  
  
"What makes you think I...even if I were this Turner fellow, would wish to go back to the life of ship's captain?"  
  
"Because once it is in your blood it can not be denied."  
  
"And you Miss, how are you expert in this field?" He asked, finally turning about to gauge her response.  
  
Tilting her head slightly, shielding her eyes with her hand to look at him, Catherine's dark green gaze locked with his brown. "I know this because of my late husband. He was more married to the sea than to myself," she spoke up, only half telling the truth. No need to inform the man she wished to hire of personal matters, which struck close to her heart.  
  
"This venture, what does it involve?"  
  
"I need a cargo delivered immediately to the Isle of Kinset, just south..."  
  
"I know where it lies," he interjected, stepping forward. "Just what sort of cargo are you hauling?"  
  
This was the question Catherine Kent knew to expect, but it was also the question she dreaded. "If I tell you that it is none of your...Mr. Turner's business, then what would he say?"  
  
Dark eyes narrowed upon the woman and he closed the gap so that she could smell the faint scent of smoke upon his body. "I would say that Will Turner would not captain any vessel that he did not know the cargo of, especially in those waters which will have to be crossed to take your ship safely into port and deliver said goods."  
  
"Alcohol...spirits..." she answered, hoping she wasn't getting in too deep and saying too much or worse yet, too little.  
  
Turning around, heading back to the side of the cottage where she'd first heard footfalls, the young man waved her off. "The ship..." he stated.  
  
"I'm sorry?"  
  
"The ship, Mr. Turner will request payment for services rendered with the ownership of your vessel," he explained, glancing over his shoulder to see the shocked expression on the woman's face. He had to give the lady her due, she was slightly reckless and careless for coming alone, for he'd seen her approach the cabin nearly an hour earlier, but she was also stubborn and full of spirit, something he'd missed for a very long time.  
  
Chewing on her lip for the briefest of moments, Catherine thought out the request. It was her own fault after all for saying 'anything', but to get the cargo to the correct port and her payment due, it was an expensive request, but worth getting things done and off her hands after so long.  
  
"You've...tell Mr. Turner, he has a deal. The 'Engloria' will be his upon safe delivery of cargo," she agreed, receiving a nod of acceptance before he disappeared.  
  
"Do you wish to know when we set sail?" She shouted, hiking up her skirts and going to the side of the cottage to see the man walking towards a makeshift shed in the near distance.  
  
"When Mr. Turner deems the timing is right!" He loudly declared right back at her, earning him a bit of a disgruntled kick of gravel from the young woman before she spun around.   
  
"My name, do you not want to know..."  
  
"Mr. Turner will learn your name soon enough!"  
  
"Bloody pig-headed man!" Catherine snapped, hoping he'd heard her remark.  
  
"Bloody woman!" Will Turner snapped aloud as he quickly lengthened the distance between the two.  
  
~~*~~ 


	2. Chapter 2

Journey Beyond the Past (2/?)  
  
~~*~~  
  
Will Turner hoisted his few belongings that were in the worn leather sack upon his shoulder, and slowly made his way through the crowded streets just outside the fort on his way to the docks. It had been months since he'd laid eyes on the fort and still it brought back nothing but morbid memories of his Elizabeth and their son...a son he scarce knew.  
  
His mind, so wrapped within the context of the past, was so occupied that the image he saw in the butcher shop window caught him by surprise, stopping his steps instantly.  
  
"By God," he murmured, stepping closer.  
  
To the casual passersby, they'd thought the man closely inspecting the day's slaughter. However, that was not the case. Will Turner was looking at his bedraggled reflection in the expensive glass window, which seemed to refract his image into many differing views.  
  
Running a hand through his unkempt beard, scratching his jaw, a habit he'd quickly developed since the facial hair actually itched like crazy, the man shook his head and in turning, noticed that his hair was nearly half way down his back. He now looked more wild man than either blacksmith or pirate.  
  
Shifting the weight of his bag on his shoulder, Will turned about and looked down the dusty street, searching for something quite particular.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Catherine once again made her way to the Engloria after a long night of wondering just where Will Turner had gone to and if he really had any intentions of accepting the job. Maybe all that had occurred four days earlier had been a game in which to make her leave his land.  
  
Boarding the ship, the young woman made sure that her eyes met with those of the tall, burly man she knew of as Ark. No, there was definitely nothing biblical about the large man, he was quite far from it and had the tendency to watch her far too often for her liking, but staring him down brought some sense of relief to her bones each morning as she waited for Will Turner to show.  
  
Once again, the dock master curiously looked upon the woman and muttered something she was quite sure was unsavory at best as he made his way past the docked ship. Sure, she knew the superstitions of a woman being aboard any ship and found the thinking quite antiquated and for fools. But she also was smart enough to realize that there were still far too many seamen that believed it true. She'd heard some of the stories the men told and was none too pleased or for that matter, in no hurry to seek the truth of the matter and end up tossed overboard.  
  
She glanced about the ship just to make sure things seemed to be in working order as best she could tell. After all, this was still new to her and Catherine was only learning as they went. Her husband Charles was never one to speak of the day to day goings on aboard ship. He'd rather wax poetic over his latest scheme, something that had ultimately led to his demise. The man was too much a dreamer for his own good-or so she thought.  
  
The sound of somebody boarding the ship made the woman turn. "May I..." she began to ask the handsome man that now dropped his belongings to the deck, but caught herself upon spying those familiar brown eyes.   
  
Gone was the haggard, unkempt man from just days before. In his place stood a darkly handsome, well-groomed person with hair that was shorn to just above the shoulders and held neatly in place by a leather tie. His face... his face was wonderfully handsome as the beard was now gone, a goatee in its place, allowing her to see the high cheekbones that had been hidden behind gruff hair.   
  
"Mr. Turner?" she couldn't help but ask in fascination.  
  
"Miss Kent?" he replied with a slight bow of introduction.  
  
Catherine couldn't help but grin. "You know my name, I'm impressed," she commented, following as he now inspected the ship's deck and rigging.  
  
He glanced out of the corner of his eyes while still walking about with his hands clasped firmly behind his back. "I thought it important to know the name of the woman whose ship I am to own."  
  
"Indeed, Mr.... Captain Turner," she sighed, walking behind him. "Your crew, I failed to mention it the other day when we spoke, but do you have...."  
  
Stopping at the ship's wheel, he took a deep, cleansing breath, reveling in the sweetness of sea air. "They'll be here shortly. Miss Kent, might I suggest you go ashore and make ready for our departure."  
  
Catherine eyed him suspiciously for the briefest moment. "You're not trying to steal my ship, are you?" she asked, half-serious, half-joking.  
  
A dark brow raised. "Commandeer...as an old friend would say. But no, Miss Kent, I am a man of my word. Your cargo will arrive safely, as well as you...I presume you will come along?" he began, then looked at the blonde-haired woman quizzically.  
  
"You presume correctly, Captain Turner."  
  
"Then might I once again encourage you to gather your belongings from the inn and be back before the tide goes out."  
  
Catherine nodded her head in agreement then turned to go ashore but suddenly stopped and looked rather shyly back to the man she'd hired. "When exactly 'does' the tide go out?"  
  
Will didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so instead he chose to sigh. "You have an hour, Miss Kent."  
  
"Thank you," she whispered, gathering her skirts about her so she could make her way down the gangplank to the docks without falling.  
  
Will Turner watched the woman fade into the crowd as he shook his head. This would be a most interesting voyage to say the least. But it had to be done; he wanted the ship. And if this were the only way to go about it, so be it...there were things he intended to accomplish and the only means necessary would be with this vessel.  
  
~~*~~ 


	3. Chapter 3

~~*~~  
  
Two days out and there was not the slightest hint of land in sight, something that thrilled Catherine in one breath, and worried her in the next.  
  
Will Turner's crew was small, about six men of various sizes and shapes and accents. They looked the part of pirate, but since coming aboard had treated Catherine with the utmost respect and courtesy. Something that surprised her, for on the voyage to Port Royal, the original crew her husband had always hired for his ship were irked with her presence and showed it quite openly by ignoring the young woman's presence.  
  
There was one hitch though, even Catherine could tell there were tensions between the new crew and the three remaining, especially Ark. His disgruntlement and fury could well be visible by curt looks he shot both the Captain and his employer.  
  
"Ye best be settlin' down for the night, Miss Cathie," Red Roof encouraged upon finding the young woman standing at the rails late one evening, watching the moonlit waters.  
  
Red Roof was so named for his flaming hair that resembled a wild fire. He was Irish, loved the ladies and looked more the altar boy than pirate. But then again, looks could be deceiving. One of his favorite pastimes was sitting about to anyone who would give him the time of day and tell tales of adventure and gore...his exploits so he claimed, though even Will Turner rolled his eyes upon occasion at such disclaimers.  
  
Smiling, looking back over her shoulder, Catherine shook her head in the negative. "I'm not tired. In a little while."  
  
Red Roof looked a bit unpleased by this decision and shifted on his feet while glancing about the ship almost nervously.  
  
"Miss Cathie, we wouldn't want ye to catch yer death of cold," he insisted, making the young woman laugh.  
  
"Thank you for your worry over my health, Red Roof, but I promise you, I'll be fine. After all, it's quite warm out this evening."  
  
Red Roof finally locked eyes with Will who was standing at the opposite gunwall, and could only manage a helpless shrug in the other's direction so that the woman standing before him did not notice. The redhead's only reply from his Captain was a nod of the head urging him to continue.  
  
So continue the lanky man did, but only after a very loud sigh of exasperation which definitely caught the young woman's attention, making her turn about and eye him suspiciously.  
  
"Ye really should go down below, maybe get an early start on yer readin'," he suggested, smiling at his sudden brilliance.  
  
"Tell me, Red Roof, what exactly is going on?" Catherine demanded, taking a step forward, watching as the man who towered over her with his six foot four frame took a cowering step back while swallowing thickly.  
  
"Nothin'..."  
  
Dark green eyes narrowed to slits. "I don't believe you. Why are you trying to get rid of me?"  
  
"No Miss, it's nothin' like that...honest. Cap'n Will just..."  
  
"Oh?" She exclaimed quite loudly and quite surprised.  
  
"Of all the fires in hell...forgiveness, Miss Cathie," Red Roof quickly apologized at his outburst and utterance.   
  
"Just what does Mr. Turner...Captain Will...Captain Turner...whatever the bloody hell he wants to call himself, why does he feel I should go to quarters? Has he now become my keeper?"  
  
Red Roof grinned madly at her outburst then quickly stifled his exuberance at realizing how upset the woman before him was becoming.   
  
"He just wishes for yer safety, 'at is all," he whispered, bending so that he could say such in her ear.  
  
"Oh...oh?" Catherine stammered, unsure if she should be thankful or more worried. "Just what is Mr. Turner supposedly keeping me safe from?"  
  
Red Roof held his arms out in a manner suggesting surrender. "Could possibly just be that 'e wishes to make sure ye don't fall face first overboard," he replied, knowing it was untrue but hoping the woman did not know him well enough yet to realize that when he lied, his ears turned a shocking shade of scarlet.  
  
"Oh," she muttered, daring a glance in the dark-haired man's direction as he looked upon the compass in his hand after turning the wheel over to his first mate, the one they called Bivens-and yes, he was named aptly.  
  
"Please, Miss Cathie, humor me an' go down below an' retire for the evenin'," he urged, realizing that she was still wavering the idea about in her head.   
  
Groaning lowly, the blonde-haired woman brushed by the tall, lanky redhead and made her way to the ladder. "I'll do it, but you just let Will Turner know that it's not because he wishes it to be so, but because I chose to go to quarters," she insisted with a stubborn tone to her voice.  
  
Red Roof actually breathed a sigh of relief at getting the young woman below deck and into the safety of her cabin, and for the fact that momentarily, he thought his charms on women were suddenly moot. "Well enough, Miss, well enough. Just one more thing...lock yer door."  
  
Turning about, Catherine raised a honey blonde brow in his direction, making the pirate quickly take a daring bow then straightening with his hand over his heart. "After all, Miss Cathie, yer on a ship full o' pirates, it'll serve ye well to always keep the latch bolted," he smiled that amazing smile of his, hoping he'd disarmed a potentially disastrous altercation between his Captain and the woman.  
  
"I'll remember that," she remarked, her tone not giving a thing away, but Red Roof knew that as she disappeared from sight, Catherine Kent did not completely buy what he was trying to sell.  
  
"Damnable woman, I should marry one like 'er," Red Roof grinned before going back to tell Will what had just occurred.  
  
~~*~~ 


	4. Chapter 4

~~*~~  
  
"Have you kept an eye on Miss Kent as I asked?" Will softly requested, taking the offer of water from Stout who stood there passing the ladle to the young captain, both trying to look as if just speaking of weather.  
  
"Aye, sir, just as you ordered us to this past week. Me and the other boys never let her leave our sight as best we can," he informed, taking back the empty ladle, watching as the other man went back to the ship's wheel.  
  
"Good, I don't want her out of any of our sight for no major amount of time, Stout. Something is going on, especially with that one called Ark," he explained, sparing a fleeting glance to the man in question as he cleaned the deck with scrub brush and bucket.  
  
"Captain Will, it does seem that the lady in question senses something is...amiss and not with those shifty eyed buggers, but with us," Stout informed with a loud snort of amusement.   
  
"Probably as well she should be." Will surveyed the deck and hoped to see the woman in question but she was nowhere in sight. "Speaking of which, where is Miss Kent now?"  
  
"The lady wasn't feeling too well this morning and chose to stay in her cabin," he explained, noting the odd look upon the other man's face.   
  
"Has anyone gone to check on her?"  
  
"Red Roof did earlier, said she looked a might piqued but was well enough. Figured just too much sun yesterday."  
  
The only reply the rotund man received was a mumbled 'hmm' which made his face nearly split open in a grin.  
  
"And here they say you don't care 'bout nothin' no more," Stout remarked, knowing it would dig a little deep, but he'd take the chance.  
  
Will cut his eyes upon the man and glared. "Worry about yourself and Miss Kent, not me. I'm fine," he retorted sounding irritated.  
  
"Aye, easier said than done not to include you in the worry...especially since most of us hadn't seen the likes of you in nearly six months or more," the gray haired, gray bearded older man replied before turning to leave, making his way down below and to the galley where he was normally the cook.  
  
Usually, Will Turner found he could shake off remarks such as that, but for some reason, over the past week it was becoming more and more difficult.  
  
~~*~~  
  
"Miss Kent, what are you doing top side?" Will asked, making his way to his own cabin. He'd given up the Captain's quarters for her, after all, she still owned the boat. Though he'd never admit, the move was more chivalrous than anything, since she'd offered to stay in the same small cabin she'd resided in on her journey to Port Royal.  
  
Smoothing the bodice of her gown, Catherine took a deep breath. "I thought maybe some fresh air tonight would do me some good...and please, call me Catherine."  
  
Eyeing her critically, the captain could tell the woman still was not feeling well, but all in all she didn't look too bad, just slightly pale. "Well then, Miss Catherine..."  
  
"Catherine...no Miss, no Madame...just Catherine," she sighed loudly, giving him a faint smile before slowly walking past. "Please, Captain, don't let me hold you from your retiring for the night."  
  
"Call me Will," he corrected, making her grin slightly. "You're not keeping me from anything, I could do with a breath of fresh air myself."  
  
Turning, he now walked beside the blonde-haired woman, his hands resting upon ropes and wood and anything as they strolled the length of the ship. All the while in the back of his mind, he wondered who was supposed to be looking out for her since obviously, she'd slipped topside alone. "You do realize that you've breathed fresh sea air all day, do you not?" Catherine smirked.   
  
"Ah...you noticed."  
  
"I notice more than you probably give me credit for," she replied back, the hint of annoyance wavering in her voice.   
  
Nodding his head, his hair free of its leather confines, Will darted his gaze to the deck for a brief instant. "Do you truly?"  
  
"Yes I do. I've noticed how you and your crew watch my every step. Just why is that, Mr. Turner? Are you planning to toss me overboard? Feed me to the sharks? Or is it something else? Something that I brought with me to Port Royal?"  
  
"Tell me something, Catherine, what was your husband like?"  
  
The question was not the one she quite expected and it surely registered on her face by the way she furrowed her brows. "He was a man who loved the sea. He enjoyed the danger, the thrill..."  
  
"Was he scoundrel by nature? By birth? Or just a man who plundered your family's wealth on fleeting schemes that only ended up coming back to haunt you?"  
  
Catherine stopped suddenly, turning to face the man at her side as he did the same. "What do you think you know?"  
  
"I know well enough that your husband couldn't give a bloody damn about you or he would not have left you in such dire straights to have to finish his last scheme."  
  
"He had no idea this would happen," she spoke up.  
  
"Did he now? Just how did your husband die? Flogging? Hanging by noose?"  
  
The subtle flinch that echoed through her body told the determined man exactly when he'd guessed correctly. "They were trumped up charges. Charles was not capable of such a thing they were accusing him of...he'd never do such. I couldn't stop the hanging..." she softly trailed off.  
  
"What were his charges?" Will pushed, watching as her brilliant green gaze narrowed on him.  
  
"If you must know, thievery and..."  
  
"...Piracy," he finished for her. "But I don't see your husband as the normal pirate. I see him more the upper class thief, using the guise of the sea as an excuse. He was nothing but a man who schemed and scammed money from others, was he not?"  
  
"How dare you say anything about Charles, you have never even met him..."  
  
Leaning forward so that his breath was warm against her cheek, he continued to keep eye contact. "Are you so sure?"  
  
This startled Catherine so much that she took an unconscious step backwards, nearly tripping over her own feet. "You lie," she gasped.  
  
"Many know of your husband. Mad Charles as he was so lovingly called by some. Did you not think I would do some checking of my own upon acceptance of your offer to captain this ship...own this ship?"  
  
"Yes...no...what are you saying?"  
  
Will ignored the near pleading look in the woman's eyes for him to stop, and he continued. "I'm saying your husband ruined many a good man with schemes that would never come to fruition, promises that were lies. All for the power of gold."  
  
"He wouldn't do such..."  
  
"He did and then some. You do not know the half of it. I'd dare say there is more to this shipment of rum and wine than you realize. What man in his right mind would leave the woman he professed to love to brave the seas with a crew of cut throats and make her deliver his cargo through pirate infested waters? Not to mention the high possibility of seizure and forfeit by the Royal Navy if they truly boarded this ship."  
  
Catherine was suddenly not fuming as Will had fully expected. Instead of anger, there in its place was sadness, a sadness that startled him.  
  
"If you're through berating me of my pitiful marriage, I'll bid you good night," she stated in an even tone that sent a chill through his body.  
  
~~*~~ 


	5. Chapter 5

No matter how Catherine wished it, there was no avoiding Will Turner. After skipping dinner the night before, she woke up famished, figuring the growling in her stomach was loud enough for everyone to hear.  
  
The waters were choppy. It took a few moments for the woman to gain her sea legs and keep herself from tumbling about.  
  
Slipping on the most comfortable gown she owned, Catherine went about sitting on the side of her bunk braiding her hair. She was in no mood to worry about appearances. However, most of all, she was in no mood to see Will Turner. He'd opened up old wounds that had never rightly healed. Doubts that she'd voiced only to herself on dark, lonely nights and for that, she was hurt and angry with the man.  
  
The knock upon her cabin door brought the young woman away from dark musings. "Miss Cathie, Stout sent me with yer mornin' meal."   
  
Sighing heavily, Catherine placed her silver handled brush on the bedding beside her then went to let the man inside.  
  
"I would have gone and..."  
  
Ducking his head as he stepped inside, Red Roof then shook it quite animatedly in objection. "No, Stout said to deliver this to ye once I heard ye stirrin' about. Said ye were a fine lady and no matter what Cap'n Will might 'ave told ye...."   
  
Stopping mid ramble, Red Roof quickly placed the tray upon the large, highly polished table in the center of the cabin. He dared not look at the woman, feeling quite certain the fire that would flash in her eyes, the tall pirate rushed to the door.  
  
"If ye need anythin', Miss Cathie, I'll fetch it for ye right away," he insisted, then turned around to see the woman. "There's a storm brewin' on the 'orizon, ye should stay safe down 'ere till it passes," the redhead added, noticing how she grunted in derision, her usual smile not evident.  
  
"You don't have to worry about me," Catherine spoke up, taking a seat at the table. "Tell Stout, thank you and...you as well."  
  
"Any day, Miss, any day for ye," Red Roof grinned, giving her an exaggerated bow then backing out of the cabin, heading back to the galley.  
  
Sitting alone, Catherine found that she'd cleared her plate rather quickly and was now sitting at the table, watching the plate and empty glass slide along the gleaming wood with the rise and fall of the ship. She really didn't have the energy to see Will Turner but in the same breath, she didn't want him thinking that Catherine Kent-Hyde was a weakling. All her life she'd fought that moniker in even the slightest ways and now was no different, but the damnable thing was, much of what Turner had said was true, she knew it. She just didn't want to admit it.  
  
The knock upon the door startled her out of the hypnotic dance of plate, glass, and candles on the table before her, but it was the door coming ajar that really made her literally stand up and take notice.  
  
"Miss Kent, I was sent with more wine," Ark's gravely voice informed, shoving his way inside.  
  
Catherine could feel his cold gaze upon her as the dark-haired man, with a scar running from temple to chin along the left side of his face came into the cabin, making his way to the table.  
  
"From the Master's 'private' stock," he emphasized, as she looked at him dumbly, nodding her head. The he uncorked the red wine and reached across the table to snatch, then refill her glass. "It's some of the finest...from Spain. Your husband didn't let a living soul near this wine...but now, so sad...his wife should enjoy the pleasure then, so says the Captain," Ark continued, handing the woman the glass, turning to leave.  
  
"Thank you," Catherine softly mouthed, feeling on edge and not relaxing till the door shut behind the muscular man.  
  
Glass in hand, she raced across the cabin and quickly bolted the lock, cursing softly to herself for not doing such after Red Roof left.  
  
With a deep breath, the young woman leaned heavily against the door and without the slightest of thought, downed the sweet wine in one gulp.  
  
~~*~~  
  
By noon, the blue waters had turned deadly. The waves were ever increasing and the heavens opened up to torrential rains along with thunder that seemed to quake right down to your soul, not to mention the lightning that hit the now brackish water in an eerie, deadly dance.  
  
It was all Will and his crew could do to keep the ship in one piece, but they managed-just barely.  
  
For a while there, soaked to the skin and chilled to the bone, William Turner had his doubts if they'd make it to morning, much less on their way to Santa Marta for emergency repairs.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Catherine felt as if the world was upside down...sideways...wrong-side up...and everything imaginable all at once. It had hit late in the night as the storm raged and there seemed to be no end to the feeling coiling about her stomach. As morning hit, the feeling didn't subside and only seemed to grow worse.  
  
Her energy gone, it was all she could do to make it up on deck, hoping the morbid rocking of the ship was now long gone and her stomach would stop curling, and her head to stop pounding. Just a lung full of fresh air was all she wanted.  
  
"Miss Kent...are you feeling well?" Stout asked, his massive frame blocking the sun from the woman as she stood at the railing looking out upon the water.  
  
She nodded her head slowly, very slowly and closed her eyes. "Just seasick," she hoarsely whispered.  
  
Stout chuckled then went to slap her on the back but quickly caught himself, knowing that was quite the ungentlemanly thing to do. "Aye, I know just the thing to perk you right up, missy."  
  
But before the older man could say another word, Catherine was clutching the wooden railing along the side of the ship, and while hanging over, her stomach lost its contents.  
  
"Ooh, poor lassie," Stout groaned.  
  
This torture kept up for what Catherine thought was hours, but in reality it was just a few minutes. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve while sinking bonelessly to the deck of the ship, leaning heavily against the gunwall. Stout was there moments later with a ladle of cool water, encouraging her to drink up which she reluctantly did.  
  
But seconds later, her stomach was revolting again as she quickly got to her feet to hang over the side of the ship once more.  
  
By the time the last three waves of nausea had hit, Catherine was weak as a kitten and cool and clammy to the touch. Just when she thought it could get no worse, it did.  
  
A strong arm wrapped about the small of her back, keeping her upon her feet while the other kept her damp hair from her face as she puked her guts out and groaned in agony once again.  
  
"Shhh...you'll be fine," a soothing voice encouraged, his grasp upon her steady.  
  
Taking a damp rag to her face after she was done, he helped the young woman slip from his hold and down to the deck with a heavy sigh. "No...no I won't...I think I'm going to die," she said in a strained voice, trying to make jest of the situation, but honestly wasn't sure if her words weren't truth.  
  
"Nobody's ever died of seasickness...unless you ask Jack...Captain Jack that is. I'm positive he'd know of somebody," he tried to tease as he continued to wipe down her face with the soothing rag. Right then, Catherine realized the voice belonged to Will Turner.  
  
The same Will Turner, who just the day before had caused so much pain, was now sitting there tenderly caring for her well being. At the moment, Catherine was too lethargic and too wracked with pain to conjure up any more anger towards the man. Instead, she slipped down, her head resting heavily upon his thigh while he tried to comfort her.  
  
"Never thought you'd be the one to get a bad case of seasickness," he commented, running his hand through her sweat soaked hair in a soothing manner.  
  
Shaking her head slowly in the negative, the blonde-haired woman winced. "Me either, its never happened before...and I've been caught in worse storms than..." With that, the panic returned to her in droves before Will quickly pulled an empty, wooden bucket up before her, but only the onset of dry heaves wracked her body.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Will had not lived his entire life on the open seas, but he'd had his fair share of time on board a ship after his adventures with Jack Sparrow and finding out about his true pirating heritage. He too knew the effects of one who was seasick, but by early the following morning after spending all night tending to the stricken woman, he was rather sure this wasn't the case.  
  
Concern washed through him when after midnight she began to spit-up blood, her throat and stomach surely raw from the continual abuse. Or so he hoped-that was bad enough, he didn't wish to think of what else might be the cause.  
  
At the moment she seemed to have quieted down. He was unsure if the laudanum Stout had insisted they use to calm her would stop the problem, but he feared it would only lead to worse till the reaction to empty her stomach had finally ceased. Still, something deep inside him had told him that wasn't the correct thing to do, so he'd stayed there, mopping her brow, and talking softly to her, telling her all about his life and the events leading up to meeting Jack Sparrow...he even told her about his Elizabeth. Something he'd never done since the day she'd passed away. Granted, Catherine was not coherent enough to understand, but the gentle tone of his voice was all she needed and in some way, maybe Will Turner figured he needed to speak of ghosts from the past as well.  
  
" 'Ow's she doin' Cap'n Will?" Red Roof asked in a hushed tone, his hands wringing nervously before him.  
  
"I think the worst has passed," he replied, wiping a stray strand of hair from her forehead. "It wasn't a case of seasickness, Red..."  
  
"Stout said as much," he uttered in shock, watching as Will stood up from his crouched position by the bunk and walked over to the door to look about for unwanted visitors. Closing it slowly before walking towards the large desk situated in front of the bank of golden colored glass panes at the aft of the ship.  
  
From the edge of the desk, Will picked up the bottle of wine that was now empty. Its remaining contents had spilled upon the dining table and floor during the worst of the storm for he'd found the sheet Catherine had used to soak up the blood colored wine.  
  
Eyeing it curiously, he sat it back upon the edge of the desk. He had seen the valuable wine collection hidden below deck but had given strict orders to keep hands off for he assumed it was Catherine's late husband's private stock. Will didn't feel the right to help himself or let his crew do the same and truth be told, he figured Catherine didn't know about it, or if she did, had no idea of what was really before her.  
  
Maybe he was wrong on that account. But then again, maybe not.  
  
"You brought Catherine's food to her yesterday, did you not?"  
  
"Aye," Red Roof agreed.  
  
"Was she sick then?" He asked, stepping around the desk and sinking heavily into the large leather chair behind it.  
  
Red Roof scratched his head, making his nest of flaming red hair stand every which way. "No sir...I'd say she was more angry and..."  
  
"...And what?" Will quizzed with concern.  
  
" 'Urt sir, she looked as if someone 'ad ripped 'er 'eart from 'er chest," the redhead thought. "She was mad at ye Cap'n Will..."  
  
Will's dark brow arched with alarm but he already knew the reasoning behind the woman's anger and hurt. It was him.  
  
"Forgive me for sayin' so sir, but ye shouldn't 'ave said what ye did 'bout Miss Cathie's 'usband...may his poor soul rest in peace," Red Roof quickly added, bowing his head in respect before looking sheepishly back to the dark-haired man sitting at the desk.  
  
"She had to know the truth...if she didn't already. Mad Charles was a swindler of the worst kind. He didn't care who he hurt. And trust me, he hurt a lot of people...including you...and me," he reminded, sinking back into the chair, his head resting heavily against the cool leather back.  
  
Red Roof shook his head most vehemently in rejection. "Miss Cathie didn't know what that bastard was doin', she couldn't 'ave, she's not that kind o'woman. And she most assuredly didn't know of 'is..."  
  
Will quickly raised his hand to stop the other man as Catherine began to stir and mumble softly.  
  
Relatively assured that the woman was merely dreaming and still asleep, Will sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "Ye didn't 'ave to tell 'er so...gruffly either," Red Roof uncharacteristically reprimanded, earning him a surprised look in return. "We all know yer hurtin' but it's past time ye start livin' again and...Cap'n Will, there's no need makin' that woman over there feel as poorly about 'er past, as you do yers."  
  
Sitting forward, Will couldn't look the other man in the eyes for he knew what was spoken was truth. But something would not let him yet admit it wholey. "Are you done?"  
  
"Aye, I've said me peace," the lanky man agreed.  
  
"Fine, then why don't you find out when we'll pull into Santa Marta," the dark-haired man suggested rather curtly.  
  
"Aye, I'll do that..." Red Roof acknowledged, turning to leave after taking one last look at the woman tangled amidst the sheets of the bunk. "No, I'm not finished," he suddenly blurted, stopping at the doorway.  
  
Will furrowed his brows and waited. "Me, Stout, Bevins, and some o' the others feel that yer lookin' right over somethin' special that's just before yer eyes 'cause ye still feel Miss Elizabeth's passin' was in some way yer fault. It wasn't, and if ye don't open yer eyes and yer heart, you'll possibly miss out on a second chance at life while lettin' yer soul go black. Miss Elizabeth would be most displeased and angry at ye to see ye still in such a state."  
  
With those words, Red Roof left Will sitting there in shocked disbelief, for Red Roof was the last man he ever expected to reprimand him in any way. It wasn't till Catherine mumbled softly once more, that his mind calmed and he thought again to his guess as to what had really made the woman so ill.  
  
~~*~~ 


	6. Chapter Six

"Sir, Santa Marta!" Red Roof shouted from behind the closed door to Catherine's cabin.  
  
Will nearly fell from the chair he'd been lounging-sleeping in-as his legs suddenly hit the floor after Red Roof's unexpected and quite loud announcement.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"I'll be right there!" Will loudly replied, standing slowly, stretching abused and stiff muscles.  
  
It was while he rolled his shoulders to help ease the tension of being slumped forward in such an awkward position while sleeping in the chair, that he spied something odd.  
  
The sunlight streaming in from the windows lit the room in a golden hue. But it was something that was sparkling a brilliant, vibrant red that caught his eye as the sun poured inside.  
  
"Bloody hell," he lowly exclaimed after walking across the room, kneeling at the end of the large dining table. Bringing his hand closer after picking up the small item, Will looked positively shocked.  
  
For between his fingertips rested a jewel that would fetch a handsome price in any market from the Caribbean to the Carolinas-a facetted ruby. Before his mind could quite wrap around this unexpected find, from the corner of his eye he spotted another sparkling gem just discarded near Catherine's bunk.  
  
Before it was over, there were five small, but brilliant rubies grasped within his fist. Walking back across the cabin, stealing a quick look at Catherine who was still sleeping, he quickly lit the candle upon the desk, hoping to view his find more closely.  
  
It was then he noticed the faint film upon each ruby and the subtle aroma of wine that drifted lazily about his palm.  
  
"Bastard..."  
  
"What?" Catherine sleepily asked, slowly trying to adjust her eyes to the sunlight while looking about for Will.  
  
Will's mind was reeling with possibilities and probabilities as he quickly closed his hand, hiding the rubies from the woman's view. "You're awake. Are you feeling well?"  
  
Slowly pushing herself to a sitting position and wincing at the movement, Catherine suddenly realized that she was stripped down to her thin cotton shift. Normally at such a situation she'd have been distressed and quickly covered herself, but at the moment, any sudden movement or thought for that matter seemed to send her head spinning and her stomach to lurch. So she just sat there.  
  
"I think I'm all right. Barely, but I'm feeling better than last night..."  
  
"Try three nights back," he corrected, still clutching his find in his hand but casually folding his arms before his chest while walking towards the disheveled woman.  
  
The look of disbelief upon Catherine's face would have made him grin under normal circumstances. However, now he didn't know what to think of her, let alone what he'd just found. There were too many questions and none of the answers he was coming up with were any good. Especially if what he suspected were true.  
  
Pushing her hair from her face, the blonde shook her head in disbelief. "This has never happened before, I've always been fine with sea travel...I don't understand?"  
  
"Could just be nerves, women are prone to..."  
  
He didn't finish the sentence for the glare she shot him. "I am not some weak, mindless creature who...who...faints, or some such rot, at the way the wind blows," she sternly exclaimed, pushing herself off the bunk. But standing was a little tricky in her weakened condition and as he stepped forward trying to catch her, she shrugged his touch off and instead, leaned heavily against the nearby table.  
  
"Fine, fall flat upon your face and see if I help," he said with annoyance, brushing by her, heading to the door.  
  
Taking a deep breath to calm her anger, Catherine felt ashamed. "Will, I'm sorry. It's just that so much of my life has been spent being crushed beneath a man's boot heel that...well, I'm sorry. You went out of your way to watch over me while I was feeling ill and...you and the others didn't have to do that. Thank you."  
  
Feeling slightly taken aback, Will was even more confused in his musings than before. Surely if this woman was holding such a secret she'd not be opening up in such a manner. Bowing, the dark-haired man took a long look at the woman and eyed her curiously. "You're most welcome," he finally said, noticing how she seemed to squirm under his sight.  
  
"We've arrived in Santa Marta for repairs, the storm did some damage but it's fixable. It may cost a bit..." he watched as her nose wrinkled at the words. "...But it can be done here. They are known to be the best."  
  
Catherine slowly nodded her head while looking to be worried. "Fine, I'll find a way to pay for repairs," she agreed, seemingly still preoccupied with her thoughts.  
  
"Good then, I'll go into town and get things started," Will suggested, opening the door. "Miss Kent...Catherine, how did you like the wine Red Roof brought you the other day?"  
  
Stopping her silent musing, the blonde-haired woman furrowed her brow in surprise at the odd question. "The other morning? Oh! Red Roof didn't bring me wine with my morning meal, it was not but water."  
  
"Then the wine upon the floor..."  
  
"That? That was brought later by Ark. He told me it was from my husband's private stock and that you had suggested he bring it," she answered, noticing how his eyes darkened. "It was quite good the little I had of it. I'm afraid with the way the boat was rocking, it spilled. Is there something wrong?"  
  
Will Turner felt the web he was stepping into close even tighter about his body as turn after turn presented something new. As well as something to make him reconsider the thought before. "No, nothing is wrong...just curious. Ark you say?"  
  
"Yes, it surprised me, I must admit," she spoke up, chewing on her inner cheek for saying such aloud.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because...because I thought you knew he just doesn't seem to be...I can't explain it. The man just seems to be acting the part; I've seen the way he glares at me when he thinks I'm not looking. I've also seen the way he looks at you...I'm just being paranoid, I suppose. He was my husband's quartermaster for many years..."  
  
With that last remark, Catherine stopped her words as what Will had said to her a few days earlier hit her in the chest as well as if he'd used his fist. "Nevermind...I'm just being foolish," she quickly amended.  
  
Will stood there unsure of what to say for her words, then her emotions hit him full on and he was even more confused as to his earlier suspicions of what Miss Catherine Kent-Hyde was on about.  
  
"I'll be leaving shortly for port to find someone to help repair the ship of the things which we cannot. They'll be expecting payment..."  
  
"...That will be taken care of," Catherine interrupted, looking worried once more.  
  
"Might I suggest you stay down below and rest," he began, quickly holding up his hand to stop her objections, making sure it was his free hand. The rubies were now warm in his palm and biting into his skin for he held them so tight. "You can barely keep yourself aright. A good meal, some sleep, and tomorrow, you can go with me into Santa Marta if you wish."  
  
Furrowing her brow, the woman had to agree. She'd not make it very far in her weakened state. But she did know for fact, she had to go into the town as soon as possible, there was something she had to quickly take care of or they'd never make it to the Isle of Kinset with their intended cargo. They'd come too far to have things fall apart and that was the last thing Catherine Kent wished.  
  
"Agreed," she whispered, slumping into a nearby chair at the table.  
  
"Good, I'll have Stout bring you something to eat and keep you company," Will insisted.  
  
"Mr. Turner, I do not need a nanny. I give you my word I will not leave this ship...steal this ship...sink this ship, or whatever it is you're afraid of me doing to you."  
  
Deep brown eyes narrowed slightly. "I worry for your safety, not mine. There are many things aboard a ship that a lady of your nature could find dangerous," he tried to convince, keeping the truth to himself, especially now.  
  
With a huff, Catherine cocked her head to the side and reluctantly agreed. "As you wish...this time. But sooner or later I want the truth...the entire truth," she challenged.  
  
"As well myself, dear lady. As well myself," he uttered, closing the door behind him, leaving the woman to ponder if she'd correctly read the double meaning in his words.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Securing the services of a shipwright and his men to repair the ship was easy enough. Jack Sparrow had taught Will quite a bit over time, and one was to know the names of those who were skilled and those who were trustworthy. If not, buy their trust, Jack had once said. But at the moment, Will didn't have the funds for buying loyalty, he settled for skill and a cranky shipwright.  
  
But it was also that shipwright who had informed the young captain that there had been sightings of the 'Black Pearl' just off the channel, about two days back.  
  
Will Turner knew that could only mean one thing. Jack Sparrow was in the vicinity. And where Jack Sparrow was, trouble soon followed, but Will wasn't going to miss a chance to catch up to the scoundrel. It had been far too long since the two had met-no, that wasn't completely true. In fact, it was at Elizabeth's funeral, where Jack had watched silently from afar since there was still a price upon his head by the Crown.  
  
Being as it was still barely past noon, there was only one place where Captain Jack Sparrow would be found, the wildest, raunchiest, loudest pub on the island. Will Turner figured from the raucous laughter emanating from the tavern at the end of the row, that 'The Red Rose' was the place to find the pirate.  
  
His assumption was proven correct as a blur of dark hair, hat, beads, and dark clothes came hurtling out of the tavern door only to land at his feet with a loud groan of pain.  
  
"Bloody bastards, they wouldn't know what pot to piss in if..."shirking his hat on, then looking up to see why the blazing sun was slowly blotted out, Jack Sparrow smiled his golden smile-literally. "Will? Will Turner? Is this an illusion or are you just blocking the light?"  
  
Will reached down to help hoist the other to his feet and unexpectedly received a gruff hug from the dark haired pirate with coal etched eyes. "It's me, Jack," Will assured as the other stepped away, straightening his hat once more.  
  
"Figured you'd live on that rock and not come down till I blasted the damnable cliff from beneath your feet," Jack remarked with a flourish of his hand and a quick glance to the other's feet and then grinned broadly.   
  
"You're not a lad no more. You've tossed away the silk stockings for boots now. You are a pirate for sure, so you feel you've earned your boots...good lad," Jack acknowledged, leaning forward and placing his hand on Will's shoulder.  
  
In a low whisper, Jack Sparrow began. "The ladies love the boots...remember that," he emphasized with a wave of his hand and a cock of the brow, quickly followed by a quirky brow furrow. "...And the lads too as well..." he added as second thought, pushing away as Will wasn't quite sure what to say.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind if...I'll remember that," Will stumbled. "So what brings you to Santa Marta? Thought you swore to never return."  
  
"Buy me a drink and I'll tell you my tale," Jack suggested, quickly turning and heading down the dusty street. His eyes firmly planted upon the small pub at the opposite end.  
  
~~*~~  
  
"...You have what?" Will asked, trying to fathom what he had just been told.  
  
Jack sighed with disdain. "I have a ship full of shite. The 'Pearl' is full of guano. Nobody onboard can stand the stench so we dropped anchor outside the nearest port..."  
  
"Which is why you're now in Santa Marta after swearing off to never return," the other finished, hiding his smile behind his tankard as he took a sip of ale.  
  
Pointing a finger at Will, Jack then shook his head in the negative. "No, not quite. I swore off Santa Marta after Marguerite threatened to hack off the boys..."  
  
Will's eyes widened as he choked on the mouthful of ale. "...The..."  
  
"... 'The' boys," Jack emphasized, nodding towards his crotch.  
  
Squinching his nose at the thought, while wheezing to get his breath back, Will winced-as best he could under the circumstances. "I...see...did you...deserve it?" he choked out.  
  
Placing a finger to his chin, Jack contemplated the question. "Possibly deserved that threat," he acknowledged with a groan, then picking up his tankard, downed the ale in one long gulp.  
  
Taking a deep breath, finally managing to breathe without coughing, Will Turner then asked about the ship. "What about the 'Black Pearl'? Just how did it get filled with guano?"  
  
"Haven't you heard, there's a lucrative business in shite. Just that nobody told us how bad the stench would be."  
  
"Come on, Jack, since when have you ever taken on cargo as a legitimate run?"  
  
Rolling his eyes, then banging his tankard against the wooden plank table trying to get the serving wench's attention for another round, Jack smiled. "Was a slight miscalculation. I thought the ship carried rum and such...I just overheard the wrong conversation and visited the incorrect bloody ship. But I think I've got a buyer for all that shite."  
  
"I would hope so," Will agreed. "Just what ship were you trying to plunder?"  
  
Waving his hands madly about to quiet the boy, Jack glowered at him. "Don't use that term in mixed company," he warned, noting the pirates and legitimate ship's crews about. Granted, they were divided as if told to sit that way.  
  
"Funny name...Englado...Ingla...Gloria..."  
  
"Engloria?" Will supplied, earning him a jubilant nod of the head from Jack as he pointed in the younger man's direction.  
  
"Engloria, that is it," he agreed, watching as Will frowned. "Is she of any meaning to you?"  
  
Will raked a hand through his hair as the serving wench refilled their tankards. "How would you like a tour of the ship? I'm the captain," he revealed as Jack couldn't help but laugh.   
  
"Hellfire, this 'is' good," Sparrow chuckled, tilting his full tankard in a salute to the other man.  
  
~~*~~ 


	7. Chapter 7

~~*~~  
  
By late that evening, Jack Sparrow had finished his tour of the Engloria as he and Will stood about the ship's wheel speaking about the past owner of 'said' ship.  
  
"I've heard of 'em," Jack agreed, now leaning against the railing, facing Will.  
  
"You know what he's done to some in these parts." Will said, Jack nodded in understanding.  
  
"Don't you find it ironic that the man responsible for sinking your ship, that his wife is giving you his, Mad Charles' ship, in return?"   
  
Will took a deep breath. He was most pleased with the deal and found some satisfaction in owning the swindler's ship for repayment, more for past sins-but that had been earlier. As the days turned into weeks, he was finding it more difficult to live with his choice of payment, knowing most of the reasoning was because Catherine was Charles' widow. Now that he'd spent time with the woman, things were becoming blurred.  
  
"Possibly," Will murmured.  
  
Sounding as if a content cat had now started to purr beside him, Will turned to see Jack looking in the opposite direction towards the entry to the cabins down below.  
  
Standing, one hand resting upon the rail, Jack Sparrow was quite intrigued with watching what was happening a few feet away.   
  
There stood a woman with hair of darkened gold, nearly reaching half way down her back. She was curvy, just the way he liked a woman to be and his appreciation must have been apparent for Will loudly cleared his throat in a most intimidating manor.  
  
"One of yours?" Jack asked, sensing the other's objection, but full well feeling something more.  
  
"No," Will said a little too vehement for his taste, as well as Jack's. And Jack Sparrow being Jack Sparrow, did not miss the opportunity. "That's the widow Hyde...Catherine Kent, she's going by her family name now."  
  
"Oh?" Bowing slightly as the woman ahead did the same, revealing her skirt covered backside to his perusal, Jack grinned impishly. "She does have nice ass-ets," the pirate gleamed, quickly wiping the appreciation from his face upon Will's displeased grunt.  
  
Standing, turning about to go back down below after retrieving a shawl that was left topside to dry after washing, Catherine didn't notice the two men looking in her direction.  
  
"Fine assets," Jack said lowly, staring blatantly at the silhouette of her breasts before she disappeared and before he heard Will Turner's snort and found the man looking rather upset with the remarks.   
  
Waving his hands about to the surroundings of the ship, Jack Sparrow sighed deeply. "The ship," he reassured, but he knew something now that probably even stubborn Will Turner did not.  
  
"Yes, the ship," Will said in a tight voice as Jack slapped him on the back then stepped around, heading to the gangplank.  
  
"It'll be dusk soon enough. I should best be heading back to 'The Red Rose' for the evening's festivities," the pirate explained with a naughty glint in his eyes. "You be good Will Turner...and do stop being so...so...serious," he added before walking down to the docks.  
  
Stepping closer, watching as Jack began to leave, Will placed his hand to the small leather coin purse hanging from a long leather cord about his neck. "Turner, do ye once more practice with that sword of yours for three hours a day?" Jack shouted, waving to get the other's attention.  
  
"No!" Will half lied, for it was only two hours a day, when possible.  
  
"Liar, heed what I told you years ago, find a woman if you already have not," the ebony haired pirate emphasized before sauntering away.  
  
Rolling his dark eyes, Will was not happy with the comment.  
  
"He's right ye know," Stout spoke up, suddenly appearing from the steps. "A nice woman would do ye a world of good."  
  
Narrowing his eyes at the rotund man, Will stood toe to toe with him. "I already had one, and she died," he declared with venom.  
  
"Then maybe it's time you started truly remembering that, lad. A ghost can't keep ye warm at night, much less fill your needs."  
  
With those words, Will pulled back his arm, his fist clenched as if to punch the man.  
  
"Go on, young William! If it'll take the hurt from ye, I'd gladly let you pound me into pulp," Stout swore, not backing down and watching as the other's eyes seemed to calm, the fire of anger fleeing.  
  
Unclenching his fist, the dark-haired captain ran it roughly against the stubble on his cheek. "Mind your own business, old man," he warned, brushing by him to head toward the bow of the ship and look upon the town that was slowly flickering with light as the setting sun gave way to the kiss of the moon.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Sitting upon the small bunk, legs thrown over the side, Will Turner yawned tiredly while briskly rubbing his hands across his face.  
  
He had slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning while caught once more deep amidst dreams. Odd thing was, it had finally occurred to him upon waking that morning that he'd not had a nightmare since leaving Port Royal. Furthermore, last night his unconscious had been muddled with convoluted and disjointed images, all focused most clearly on his employer, Catherine Kent.  
  
What could it mean? Those morning musings were rapidly brushed aside by the alarmed shout of his name and hurried knocking on the cabin door.  
  
Seconds later, the door flew open as Red Roof scurried inside, bumping his head against the top of the doorframe, but that didn't stop the determined young man.  
  
"Cap'n, she's gone!" The panicked redhead explained, rubbing his abused forehead.  
  
Will, still wrapped momentarily in sleep's embrace shucked on his black britches. "Red, who's gone? What are you going on about?" He questioned, reaching for his shirt, sliding it over his head.  
  
"The girl. Miss Cathie," the thin man reiterated, looking abashed at Will's momentary blindness.  
  
"Of all the mad things..." he swore under his breath, not bothering to secure his shirt, leaving it billowing open as he hurriedly reached for his belt.  
  
"When did she leave?"  
  
"Don't rightly know, Cap'n Will, one o' the boys was supposed to 'ave kept watch on 'er cabin, but was told to leave to get 'er a morning meal."  
  
"By Ark." Will finished, picking up his pistol from the small table near his bunk, holstering it in his belt.  
  
Red Roof shifted his feet nervously. "No sir, by Miss Cathie 'erself."  
  
"Bloody hell," the young captain intoned angrily. "Does she have any idea what she is doing?"  
  
"I sent a couple o' the boys into town to keep their eyes and ears open" the lanky man informed, watching as Will grabbed his sword then reached for one last thing -the small leather pouch where he kept his money and the rubies.  
  
"Good thinking. Now one last thing. I need Ark and the other two watched. Don't let them out of your sight and by damned don't let them leave this ship till I return," Turner ordered, and Red Roof could see the worry in the captain's face.   
  
"Sir, what would they do to 'er if they...caught up with 'er?"  
  
Will shook his head. "She probably wouldn't come back alive...or if she did, it would be only until they got what they wanted from her."  
  
"Would ye like me to join ye in lookin' for Miss Cathie?" Red Roof requested, his worry too, worn well upon his features, for he'd grown to like the woman.  
  
Stopping in his track, Will turned to look at the gangly man. "No, I need you here where you're most needed. Besides, I'd rather there be no witnesses for what I might do to Miss Kent once I catch up to her," he informed, leaving Red Roof speechless as the annoyed captain hurried onto the deck.  
  
~~*~~ 


	8. Chapter 8

~~*~~  
  
It had taken longer than first expected, but finally, Catherine found something in which the gruff shipwright would barter in trade for repairs to the 'Engloria'.  
  
Standing outside the small shop near the docks, the young woman looked to her hand and couldn't help but notice the blaring white skin where once a ring had snuggly rested.  
  
Her choice had been difficult, but there was nothing else left that she could barter or sell. Everything she had was either taken by her husband before his death, or sold off to get this far in the journey.  
  
The ring had once been her grandmother's, the only thing she had left of her family since her grandmother had raised her after Catherine's parents perished in a fire when she was naught but two. It was a simple ring, a silver band with one exquisite pink diamond, but it had meant the world to her, yet she knew what had to be done.   
  
"Miss Kent, is it?" A voice asked from behind. A voice belonging to Jack Sparrow. "I'd know that..." he motioned to her backside then quickly caught himself and stopped. "...I'd know you anywhere."  
  
Catherine turned about and garnered her first look at the dark-haired pirate who was smiling most appreciatively, before bowing in her direction. "Have we met?"  
  
"Milady, I'd never forget an..." he began, thinking back to her derriere before being interrupted by Will's shout as he stepped towards the two, a scowl upon his face.   
  
Jack leaned towards the blonde haired woman and whispered. "I've tried to tell him to loosen up, but he never listens."  
  
Not quite sure how to take the flamboyant man, Catherine couldn't help but lowly laugh. That is, till she saw the expression in Will Turner's eyes.  
  
"I know 'what' you'd never forget," Will shot back protectively, having overheard the remark Jack was about to make to the beautiful woman.  
  
Sighing deeply, Jack placed his hand above his heart. "It is truly a work of art," he insisted, stealing a quick glance at her backside when Catherine wasn't paying attention to him, but instead was looking at Will.  
  
"You have no business leaving the ship unattended," Will began, brown eyes deepening in color.  
  
Catherine raised a delicate brow and met his gaze. "Excuse me? Since when do you have say in my comings and goings? You, Mister Turner, are under my employ, not my keeper."   
  
Will stepped closer, and didn't turn his eyes away. "You, Miss Kent, are under my protection while I'm in charge of your ship."  
  
Jack sighed heavily and stepped between the two, pushing them away from one another. "I see you still have that annoying protective streak in you..." he remarked, looking at Will who blatantly ignored him.  
  
"Miss Kent...may I call you Catherine?" continuing before she replied, "Catherine, you must forgive the boy, he's once again...frustrated," Jack spoke up, leading the woman towards the docks, but stealing a glance at Will, who was blushing from both anger and embarrassment.  
  
"Dear boy is back to practicing with that damned sword again, isn't he?" the pirate asked the woman.  
  
Nodding dumbly, neither sure where the man was leading, nor really what he was referring to, Catherine strolled with him. "Yes."  
  
"Three hours a day?" Sparrow quizzed, hearing Will's loud footsteps coming up behind them.  
  
Shrugging her shoulders. "I really have no idea."  
  
Jack nodded his head in understanding as the 'Engloria' came into view. "I'm sure he is. The dear boy just hasn't a clue...definitely three hours," the pirate grinned, stealing a glance at the woman's cleavage.  
  
That was all Will could take of the double entandre before roughly pushing by his old friend, storming his way back to the ship.  
  
"You have no idea of what you speak, Jack Sparrow..." the younger man growled.  
  
Rolling his eyes. "That's captain, 'Captain' Jack Sparrow," the other corrected. "And I do believe I have a great deal of knowledge in this field in regards to..." he trailed off, stopping himself from mentioning Catherine's name or cleavage. "...You know who and your sword play, you daft whelp."  
  
Will only managed to flail his arms as if wildly talking to himself, trying to ignore the other's inclination. It wasn't true, it couldn't be. He had loved Elizabeth and had no intentions of letting another get near his heart, no matter the cost. One family had been brutally snatched from him; William Turner dared not wish for another.  
  
~~*~~  
  
"You should tell the, lass," Jack insisted, raising his bottle of rum in the direction of the ship's cabins down below.  
  
Will took a long swig of the warm, spicy rum and looked at the man sitting on the deck beside him, their backs against the gunwall. "Tell her what?"  
  
"Tell her for one, what you truly think of her. And two, what's..." Jack darted his eyes about, searching for any unwanted hangers about to overhear. "...Going on aboard this ship. Not to mention the lady's relation to her husband-may the bastard burn in hell."  
  
Eyes bleary, Will Turner looked abashed. "What I think of her? She's a lovely lady, quite beautiful in fact and she has spirit...but..."  
  
"You wish to jump her bones, do you not?" Jack grinned happily.  
  
Opening his mouth, looking more like a fish gasping for its life upon a dry wharf, Will didn't quite know what to say. "I do not," he loudly protested.  
  
Taking a long sip, Jack Sparrow laughed raucously. "You are a horrible liar, lad. I can see it in your eyes, you wish to bed her, then wed her," he grinned naughtily.  
  
Shaking his head in the negative, Will didn't reply, he just downed the rest of his rum. Then taking a deep breath, leaned his head back against the cool wood and closed his eyes.  
  
"You can keep the lie alive inside ye, lad. Let it continue to eat at you until you're heart is black. Or you can finally give in and stop loving a ghost," Jack softly spoke.  
  
"But Elizabeth?"  
  
"She's dead. You're alive. End of love story, mate." With those words, Jack tossed his empty bottle over his head; the glass could be heard shattering as it hit the docks below, but only after knocking some poor soul senseless.  
  
"Now about all this..." Jack waved a hand about drunkenly. "When are you going to tell her you want this boat for two reasons? Revenge and...well, the other I just haven't figured out yet?"  
  
Slowly sitting forward, Will took the leather cord from about his neck and took the pouch in hand.  
  
Dumping its contents into an open palm, out poured the coins of gold and the rubies.  
  
"Bloody good find, boy," Jack marveled, eyeing the jewels.  
  
"Find is right. I think Miss Kent is behind this. You do realize where these originated, more than likely?" Will asked tiredly, then put them back in the pouch and pulled the drawstring tight, placing it once more over his head.  
  
"I'm sure you're going to say the lovely Miss Kent was behind this."  
  
"I found them in her room, they were hidden in a bottle of her husband's private wine stock. The bottle had fallen over during the storm and she might have found others. I'd best lay claim that Catherine...Miss Kent, knew of this and just needed to find where they were hidden."  
  
Jack squinched his nose and tried to gain some sense for what the other was saying but it was lost in the translation. "I say you're wrong. If she knew of this stash...which by the way, are there more?"  
  
Will nodded his head in the affirmative. "Nearly every bottle of wine in those crates have something in them."  
  
A long, low whistle emanated from the pirate. "Can I borrow a bottle, for a roundez vous with a lovely lady tonight?" He asked, as the other ignored the request. "Well, if you want my opinion. You, dear boy, are incorrect in your theory. Did you not notice the young lass' hand?"  
  
Blinking owlishly, the younger man looked at the other in confusion. "If you had paid any attention, you'd have noticed that a ring was missing from her right hand," Jack continued.  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
Jack grinned brightly, then looked about for another bottle of rum to start on. "I'm a pirate. I notice these things."  
  
Will Turner narrowed his eyes upon the other in exasperation. "She had a band of fair skin as white as an infant's bottom on her finger. She more than likely sold the ring or bartered services of some sort."  
  
"The repairs to the ship," Will whispered huskily.  
  
"I see you've learned well from me, lad," Jack beamed. "Where's the rum?"  
  
~~*~~  
  
"Well mate, I've had quite the time tonight but I'm off to visit Rochelle...Roxanne..." Jack thought aloud, momentarily placing a finger to his chin, groaning slightly as he unsteadily pushed himself up off the deck. "...Rachel...Gladys? I can't remember. But she has a glorious mole right in the middle of her creamy white..."  
  
Standing, wavering slightly, Will held up his hand to stop the other. "A gentlemen never tells..."  
  
"Ha! Since when did you confuse me for a gentlemen?" Jack Sparrow loudly spoke up with spirit, then frowned as the statement sunk into his rum drenched mind.  
  
Will quirked a dark brow and seemed to be contemplating the other's remark.  
  
With a wave of a hand, Jack stumbled down the gangplank. Nearly tumbling into the water with each step before setting foot on the wood planks of the dock.  
  
"You, William Turner, heed my words. Live today, leave your grieving behind. Besides, any bloody bastard in the Caribbean can see you favor the lass and she...bet the lass is a screamer in the midst of..." Sparrow loudly spoke up as his mind wandered slightly as he staggered down the docks, leaving Will standing there all agog.  
  
~~*~~ 


	9. Chapter 9

~~*~~  
  
"What the..." Catherine muttered, being rudely awakened by the loud thumping, swearing, and crash that seemed to be coming from the passageway just outside her cabin door.  
  
Hastily fumbling into her dressing gown, grabbing the lit candle from the chart table, the blonde haired woman scurried across the cabin to throw open the door and peer outside.  
  
Squinting in the dim light, the lantern in the area swaying slightly with the gentle rocking of the ship at dock. Catherine spotted her hired captain sitting at the foot of the ladder.  
  
Lifting the candle higher, hoping to gain a better view, the young woman now stooped before the slightly drunk and dazed man. "Are you all right?" she asked worriedly, noting the sprawl of his long legs.  
  
"I'm fine," Will grumped, glaring at the steep steps as if they had intentionally tripped him up. "Damned bloody things."  
  
"They are in deed," Catherine agreed, hiding her amused smirk behind a curtain of unbound, dark blonde hair as she turned to place the candleholder beside them.  
  
Will didn't say a word, only grunted his agreement while raking a hand through his tousled hair.   
  
"Captain Turner, you seem to have bumped your head while taking that first step," she remarked, now facing the man before her and noticing the mark.  
  
Gently placing a finger near the forming bruise upon the other's forehead, the young woman winced as the dark haired man flinched. "You smell of rum...fine rum at that," she mused, not noticing his actions.  
  
While the beautiful woman leaned forward, her long hair brushed teasingly against his hand and Will couldn't resist touching the silken strands and reveling in the softness. He found the sweet scent of jasmine soap lingering about the woman, making him close his eyes and breathe deeply the alluring aroma.  
  
"...Did you hear me? I said, you would more than likely recover with only minimal damage to your pride," Catherine grinned, slowly pulling back as he searched her face for any sign of recognition.  
  
Nodding his head mutely, Will Turner gazed upon the woman as his hand slowly snaked through her unbound hair.   
  
"He was a fool," Will lowly commented, leaning forward, his hand at the base of her skull, gently urging her forward.  
  
The question that remark had brought about was instantly brushed aside the moment their lips met. The kiss was deep, thorough, and passionate. It held everything the other had longed for over many lonely months and sleepless nights. The air about both was as volatile as a storm upon the open sea, and their touch seemed to ignite embers long dormant in their souls.  
  
Moans and utterances of physical delight reverberated about them as Catherine found herself nearly astride his lap. Her nails lightly raking down his chest through the fabric of his shirt while in the same instance, one of Will's hands held her head firmly in place as the other trailed hungrily across her hip and towards her breast.  
  
The woman didn't hesitate as she matched the handsome man move for move, the desire between the two near tangible in the warm night air.  
  
"Cap'n...Miss...beg pardon," Red Roof gasped, stopping in his tracks and turning about in one flawless move. Forgotten was the reason why he was going down below, instead, he made himself scarce as the two quickly separated and awkwardly got to their feet.  
  
Neither said a word as they nervously righted rumpled clothing and increased the distance between them. "Apologies...I should have never...it was the rum making me...forgive me," Will apologized, turning to go into his cabin.  
  
Catherine felt as if she were trapped in the midst of a raging whirlwind with the way her heart was racing and her emotions were swirling about her. "Earlier, you said someone was a fool. Who did you mean?" she asked, finding herself wishing he'd say her husband, for all those terrible years spent near alone, though she were married.  
  
Turning away from her, unable to keep his composure if he saw her kiss swollen lips once more, Will lied. "I'm the fool," he said in monotone before disappearing into the loneliness of his small cabin.  
  
Placing a fingertip to her lips, Catherine stared at the retreating man's door for a long time before going back to her own quarters, bolting the door behind her from habit. What had been an amazing and dare say confusing few moments of physical bliss had just been dashed by his last remark. Did he find his actions foolish? Was she the fool for allowing Will Turner, for that brief instant, inside the walls she'd erected about her heart?   
  
Once burned, never again, she thought, taking off her dressing gown and carelessly tossing it to the floor while heading to the bunk.  
  
~~*~~  
  
The following morning was brutal. Will awoke with a nasty headache and memories that would not fade, no matter how much he wished them to disappear.   
  
His mood was most foul and his anger was taken out on everyone that dared to get near the man for even the simplest of questions or reports. The sooner they were back out at sea, the better he thought, watching the men finish up the ship's repairs.   
  
If all went well, they could hit the evening tide and he'd be well on his way to delivering the damned cargo. And Miss Catherine Kent-Hyde would be on her way to wherever it was the woman needed to go, but most assuredly, out of his life.  
  
"Damn her," Will muttered to himself.  
  
~~*~~  
  
If Will Turner could be a complete and utter cad, then that was how she would treat the man, Catherine thought, standing at the bow of the ship, stealing a glance at the captain who was busy snapping orders to one of his men.   
  
How could the man have lured her to...well, to do things she never would have intended? But somewhere in the back of her mind, the stubborn woman thought of something else. Something a lady would not consider, much less be a party to by any means.  
  
When all was placed upon the table before her, she too could react and act to fulfill her own sexual needs. It had been a long time...too long. Why not? Men obviously did not care but for one thing only, the act of sex itself.   
  
"Besides, the sooner we get this cargo to the buyer, the sooner I can wash my hands of Will Turner and his annoying self," she mused aloud.  
  
"Damn him," Catherine snapped behind gritted teeth.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Not one word had been spoken between Will and Catherine since the ship set sail the day before. Their only means of communication was through Red Roof or Stout and that was just as uncomfortable knowing that the red haired man had most definitely told the other crew member of the compromising situation he'd found the two in just days earlier.  
  
"Ye think those two will ever see the signs?" Stout remarked, nodding his head first to Will, and then to Catherine.  
  
"Not even if it 'it 'em upside the 'ead," Red Roof stated, both men folding their arms before their chests and in unison leaned against the gunwall.  
  
"Think we should give them a little help?"  
  
Red Roof turned to the other and gasped in shock, before his toothy grin made it known how much he did like the question. "Any ideas?"  
  
"Well there's the 'ol standby method," Stout thought aloud as the other waited patiently for word of what it was, but it never came.  
  
Impatiently, the red-haired man nudged the other with his elbow. "What standby method?"  
  
"Man...err woman overboard," the burly man whispered.  
  
Arching a flaming red brow in alarm, Red Roof frowned. "Don't know 'bout that, Stout. Could be dangerous for...ye know 'who'. She's just a wee thing."  
  
"Not if Cap'n Will is right there to jump in after her."  
  
"Ahh," they both grinned and sighed in tandem.  
  
~~*~~ 


	10. Chapter 10

~~*~~  
  
"I'm...s...s...sorry," Catherine chattered, her wet dressing gown clinging to  
  
her body. "I...I don't know what happened," she wondered aloud as Will sat  
  
her gently to the edge of her bunk, he too sopping wet.  
  
"You're fine now, that's all that matters," he insisted, his hair  
  
unbound, hanging nearly in his face as he grabbed the blanket from the  
  
bed and placed it about her shoulders.  
  
"That's never happened before," she explained. "I was just standing  
  
there before going to bed, looking at the stars and next thing I know,  
  
I'm tumbling overboard."  
  
Will was rushing about lighting all the candles he could find and  
  
placing them about the cabin to light and warm it as quickly as  
  
possible. "Maybe you tripped over a rope," he suggested, thinking back  
  
to the incident and not seeing what happened, but having Stout point out  
  
that Catherine had fallen overboard. In calm waters no less.  
  
Shaking his head to clear his mind, Will stopped before the woman and  
  
placed his hands on his hips. Damn, she was most fetching with her hair  
  
plastered to her skull, and that dressing gown not leaving much to the  
  
imagination as it held itself firmly against every curve of her body.  
  
Why didn't she put that blanket back around her shoulders?  
  
Reaching forward to pick the blanket back up once more after she had  
  
discarded it, Will eyed her curiously. "Miss Hyde," he began,  
  
intentionally using her married name and watching as she bristled. "Did  
  
you mean to jump ship?"  
  
Catherine gasped aloud and looked at the man as if he'd gone mad. "What?  
  
Why would I do such a thing?"  
  
"You tell me?" He goaded.  
  
Standing, not caring that she was but toe to toe with the man, her green  
  
eyes blazed with fury. "I have no intentions of tossing myself to the  
  
sea in some...some...perverted, feeble manner. You think that the other  
  
night...us...the kiss, would make me do such? You are more the fool than I'd  
  
have imagined, Mr. Turner."  
  
"I am not so high upon myself to even consider that it had anything to  
  
do with me and the actions of that night. I was merely referring to your  
  
state of... being...financially if nothing else," he assured, grabbing her  
  
hand and showing her the finger, which had held the ring at one time.  
  
"You sold your ring for the ship's repairs, did you not?"  
  
Snatching her hand back, Catherine near growled at the man. "No, I did  
  
not sell...I bartered," she corrected on that thin point, knowing it was  
  
nothing but silliness. "Do you wish to know everything?"  
  
Cocking his head to the side, water from his wet hair drizzling lazily  
  
down his neck and chest, he was quite the enthralling sight. "Yes, that  
  
would be most interesting, I'm positive," he shot back, watching as the  
  
woman before him placed her hands on her hips and straightened her  
  
posture.  
  
"Fine then. Yes, I had to barter my ring...my grandmother's ring to be  
  
exact. For that is all I have left till we deliver this cargo. Do you  
  
also wish to know that upon my husband's death..."  
  
Will arched his eyebrow at the word, making Catherine snort.  
  
"...Upon his 'hanging', he left our finances in a mess. There was nothing  
  
left, debtors came from near and far to take everything from me. My  
  
house, the land, all my belongings...and all for debts I knew nothing  
  
about. Charles always took care of those matters, I allowed him, that is  
  
supposedly how it is done, is it not? And you see where it has gotten  
  
me. Living on a ship no less, spending what little I did own to get it  
  
seaworthy before Port Royal, and then in the process, losing the ship as  
  
well, for payment to you."  
  
"I have nothing left to give, Mr. Turner. The coffers are bare, what few  
  
gowns I own are last season's and patched to the extent that if I dared  
  
placed another stitch upon them, they'd become more glaringly noticeable  
  
than they already are. Do you wish to know that during my marriage, I  
  
was usually alone while Charles was out on this damned ship? I stayed  
  
home, circulated the social circles helping him drum up business  
  
elsewhere because that was what was expected of me. I was the dutiful  
  
wife, that was my role. Yet, not a soul told me that when I fell in love  
  
with him and married, that it was a love that would be used against me  
  
and keep me so lonely I thought I'd go crazy."  
  
"So no, Mr. Turner, if I had planned to throw myself overboard at any  
  
time. I'd say it would have occurred over the last eight years...and even  
  
then, I endured, hoping for his business to finally 'pay off' as he kept  
  
telling me. Or more still, I'd become pregnant-but that's next to  
  
impossible when over a year would pass and he'd be off in the Caribbean  
  
while I was in the Carolina's."  
  
Will was at a loss for words, his mind was spinning near out of control  
  
for he felt that in some way, there stood his kindred spirit. Someone  
  
else who had lived a hell and was now searching, scraping, and fighting  
  
for some semblance to start over again, but still unwilling to totally  
  
let go of the past.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said with concern, his true understanding very evident  
  
in his eyes.   
  
"You know, the other night, I was wishing you were speaking of how  
  
foolish my husband was...not you. I guess it was a desperate woman's  
  
ravings, but it is truth...I swore I'd hate you for not giving me that  
  
remark...but again...I can't hate you Mr. Turner. Truth is, I don't  
  
understand why," she found herself confessing, much to both their  
  
surprise.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Will shifted slightly on his feet. "I 'was'  
  
speaking of your husband. He was an utter fool to leave you wasting away  
  
at home while he...well, I've told you what he did. If you wish to believe  
  
it, all well, if not, so be it. I can't make you believe something  
  
you're not ready to, but all I can say is that it's a good thing you do  
  
not use your married name in these parts. There are lots of men...and  
  
women... with hard feelings towards Charles Hyde..."  
  
Catherine began to speak up, but Will placed a hand to her cheek,  
  
stopping the words instantly. "No, no words, it's not necessary. But I  
  
can tell you that your husband was not a good man on many levels. He  
  
might not have shown you, but I think you realized this after some time  
  
and just didn't want to believe it...wanting to hold on to your dreams,  
  
your future. But sometimes, Catherine Kent, your dreams and your future  
  
are brutally snatched away from you...you either hide or fight."  
  
"Like you?" she asked softly, no accusation in her voice but a kinship.  
  
Will couldn't help but smile wanly. "Not quite. I chose to not live. I  
  
chose to exist day to day and not think of the world beyond my self  
  
pity...till you turned up on that broken down porch of mine."  
  
"You loved your wife very much, did you not?"  
  
He chuckled lowly, but with warmth. "I'd have died for her. Taken her  
  
place if possible," he said with conviction.  
  
"Did she love you in return?"  
  
Looking slightly surprised, Will kept his hand to her cheek and tenderly  
  
brushed his thumb against her damp skin. "I would like to think so. No,  
  
I know this for fact," he corrected, as he watched the woman before him  
  
bow her head and appear to be glancing at their feet, and the puddle of  
  
salty water slowly pooling about them.  
  
Slowly, his hand moved to her chin and he urged her to face him. It was  
  
in the moment her green eyes locked with his rich brown that he knew so  
  
much of her spirit had been crushed over the years and that she still  
  
longed to be whole again.  
  
"You were very lucky, Will Turner, very lucky. Some of us never have  
  
known what it would be like to honestly be loved in return. We give so  
  
much. So much is taken. We begin to wonder if there is ever going to be  
  
anything left to give again," she voiced in a trembling whisper.  
  
He could not have looked away from her in those fleeting seconds if  
  
someone had held a pistol to his head. Those few words had struck every  
  
nerve in his body and had raced straight to his heart. "He was a damned,  
  
bloody bastard," he spoke with anger, leaning forward to meet her half  
  
way for a kiss that was slow, passionate, and breathtaking.  
  
~~*~~  
  
tbc 


	11. Chapter 11

~~*~~  
  
If truth be told, neither Catherine nor Will could have figured out how they stripped from their wet clothes so quickly. The actions were that of two lonely and desperate people as they helped the other undress with hands that trembled with need.  
  
The instant they shed their wet clothing, both were in the other's arms, embraced in a fevered kiss as they stumbled about the cabin in a flustered, sexual haze.   
  
They didn't care as the water bowl crashed to the floor after Will backed into it upon having Catherine slowly sink down his body, kissing a heated path from his chest to his abdomen. Her actions made his blood boil. Will Turner could vaguely remember the look of a predatory cat in her eyes just before he leaned his head back and groaned gutturally at the pleasure.  
  
It had been far too long since either had been with another and their foreplay was brief, agonizing to the point of boundless pleasure. Just as the water bowl fell, Will urged the woman back to her feet and kissed her so thoroughly, she moaned upon his lips.  
  
Cupping her face in his hands as they kissed, the two danced a staggered dance about the cabin till Will had the beautiful woman pinned between the wall and his body, the door just a foot beside them. Never in his life had he been with another woman besides Elizabeth, and never in his life had he taken her in such a heated and near animalistic way as he intended with Catherine.  
  
She was wildfire in his veins and the feel of her bare foot, sliding up the back of his leg to rest on his thigh, only made him want her more.   
  
There was no slow. The two could not have been quiet during the act if their lives depended on it. For they were caught in the moment and the pleasure and sexual release between them was like a sweet intoxication.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Red Roof hummed to himself as he made his way down the ladder, bottle of rum-borrowed from the cargo down below. Just as his foot hit the landing, the redhead slowed his step and found himself humming a broken tune while tilting his head curiously.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Bowing his head, leaning over this exquisite creature, Will closed his eyes. No matter how desperately he wished for this scene in time to last, his body would betray him.  
  
Catherine's staccato gasps of fulfillment gave way to a loud, low, incomprehensible utterance before it became muffled as she buried her face against his left shoulder. The temptation to nip his salty skin overwhelming-and she did just that. By morning there would be a slight bruise on his golden flesh. The action surprised Catherine, she'd never done anything like that before, but in the moment, it felt right.  
  
The moan that Will growled was soul searing as he could feel the pressure against his shoulder as her teeth teased his skin.   
  
~~*~~  
  
"Oh," Red Roof mumbled, stopping in his tracks, nearly dropping the bottle of rum he had intended to deliver to Catherine and Will, hoping to stave off the chill of diving into the blue waters.   
  
"Ohhh!" the lanky man said more loudly, the events of what he was so obviously overhearing finally sinking in.  
  
Smiling broadly, feeling quite proud of himself and Stout for their plan to get those two together going obviously right, Red Roof looked at the bottle of rum and decided he and the other man should toast to their success.  
  
Now whistling, rather certain that the couple behind the closed door would not hear him, the red-haired man jovially went above deck in search of his partner in crime to tell him the good news. A toast to the new couple was in order, as well as the fact that the three original crewman aboard the Engloria-Ark included, had mysteriously slipped off ship the day they left Santa Marta. All was definitely looking well.  
  
~~*~~  
  
Breathing heavy, hearts pounding, Will slowly lifted his head while Catherine leaned back against the wall. He gingerly released his hold on her, but kept his hands to her hips to steady, unsteady legs.  
  
The kiss he stole from her lips this time was soft, passionate, and gentle.  
  
~~*~~ 


	12. Chapter 12

  
  
Waking only when hearing the knock upon her cabin door, Catherine stirred, then realized that once again she was alone in bed. When Will had left, she hadn't a clue, for he had slipped silently out of her bunk.  
  
"Miss Cathie, apologies, but Cap'n Will 'as requested to dine with ye...in 'ere, at the grand table this noon," Red Roof announced from the other side of the door.  
  
Pulling the blanket hastily up to cover herself, knowing the door was unlocked, the woman looked slightly startled. "He did?" she asked in surprise.  
  
"Aye, 'e did," Red Roof chuckled softly.  
  
Looking about at what she thought would still be a mess with items carelessly tossed or jousled about, Catherine found the cabin unexpectedly picked up-mostly. "Tell him I look forward to dining with him."  
  
"Stout is plannin' to fix ye somethin' quite edible too," the tall, thin man added, quite proud of himself and his friend.  
  
"Sounds wonderful," she smiled, slipping out of bed. "Red, would you please bring me some fresh water?"  
  
"Right 'ere," he informed, bucket in hand. "May I come in?"  
  
Catherine looked about for her dressing gown and couldn't find it, then remembered that it was soaked with seawater from the night before. "Just leave it beside the door, I'll get it," she suggested.  
  
"Aye, Miss. Oh, Miss Cathie, Cap'n Will said I should leave ye this as well," he added, as she could hear him setting two things outside her door. "Said you'd be needin' a new wash bowl seein' as 'ow the old one was damaged."  
  
Blushing furiously, unable to stop herself at the mere mention of such and how the basin had not just gotten damaged, but broke in two, Catherine sighed. "Tell the Cap'n he's quite thoughtful," she answered.  
  
"Will do," Red Roof exclaimed, his whistling echoing about as he left.  
  
When Will knocked upon her cabin door, Catherine couldn't help but eye him with great interest and appreciation as she let him inside. The man was beyond alluring as he strode in. He was newly washed and shaved; the goatee he now wore was most handsome for his face and the clothes he had on were crisp and clean. The shirt, open low upon his chest, blazed a brilliant white against tan skin, as the britches he wore were snug and fed into the high, black leather boots that were newly polished. He looked every bit the scoundrel pirate she had imagined existed-and it was damn near overwhelming to look upon.  
  
While Catherine was so wrapped up in Will, she was too busy to realize that he as well was quite taken by her appearance. The gown she had chosen looked amazing, it was a green that matched her eyes and showed just enough cleavage to make a man dizzy with desire. Around her neck was a simple, green satin ribbon that made him ache to kiss the nape of her neck if given the first invitation-damn she was desirable.  
  
The two had scarcely said two words before the knock upon the door alerted them that the meal was ready and Stout and a few of the crew brought in the food and wine. "It looks amazing," Catherine smiled, watching as Stout now blushed, or at least it seemed so since it was difficult to see through his white whiskers.  
  
"Thank ye, Miss Catherine," he grinned, backing out as if he was still too busy watching the two.  
  
Will shook his head in amusement until everyone left the cabin and he went to the door to lock it for privacy. "Where were we?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Catherine smiled so sweetly that the naughtiness of it caught his breath.  
  
"We really should eat," Will remarked half-heartedly, waving to the bounty of food upon the table. "Or at the very least, drink," he grinned, picking up the glass of wine, slowly stalking towards the alluring woman.  
  
"We really should," she sighed, watching as Will took a small, seductive sip from the wine glass before leaning in to kiss her, the sweet wine heavy upon his tongue and lips.  
  
"Mmmm...nice," she purred, licking his bottom lip as he pulled away. "May I?"  
  
Will arched a dark brow curiously before bowing his head in consent as he handed her the glass.  
  
Taking a small sip of her own, Catherine locked eyes with the man and couldn't help but notice how he unconsciously licked his lips as she made sure he knew how much she enjoyed herself. It was her turn to reach forward, pull the tie from his hair and urge him closer as she kissed him slowly, seductively, their tongues lapping at the other.  
  
"Very nice," Will said lowly after tugging her bottom lip playfully with his teeth.  
  
Catherine raised a brow and looked quite sure of herself, which made him grin. "We really should eat, Stout went to a lot of trouble..." he suggested, having no intentions of dining.  
  
"...True. We did miss breakfast...or at least I did," Catherine sighed, finding herself being slowly backed against the table.  
  
His arms were tight about her waist as his lips wished to devour her with his kiss. Catherine's hands were gliding across his chest, then under the billowing shirt as her fingers delighted in the feel of the muscles along his neck and shoulders.  
  
Will Turner was growling deep in his throat as he released his hold upon her waist and was rucking her skirts up while lifting her to sit upon the edge of the table.  
  
Their meal would have to wait.  
  
Leaning forward, elbow on the table, her bodice unlaced and her shift barely covering her breasts in that position, Catherine sat contently and enjoyed a delicious apple. Will in the meantime, sat at the head of the table, shirt untucked, falling off his shoulder, booted feet crossed at the ankles while resting on the edge of the gleaming piece of furniture, enjoying the view of his lover and the fig he was eating.  
  
"Tell me something, Mr. Turner..."  
  
Will's raised brow and the look in his eyes made her stop. "After what we were just doing, I think you'd best call me Will," he corrected, making her roll her eyes while blushing.  
  
"Will, I overheard some of the men saying that Ark and the other two from the old crew-the crew of my husband's, left the ship. Is this true? Any ideas?"  
  
Wiping his hands, Will fought with himself as to how much to confess. "It's true, they slipped off ship the day we set sail again. As to why...my inclination is to believe they didn't find what they were hoping to find aboard the Engloria."  
  
Placing the apple core to the table, Catherine frowned. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Miss Kent..."  
  
It was Catherine's turn to pointedly arch a brow at the dark-haired man. "Catherine," he corrected. "I'm rather positive, with Ark being your late husband's quartermaster, he was privileged to certain knowledge. But possibly not everything Charles Hyde was up to. I'm rather certain Ark and the other two were hoping to find something stashed away for a very rainy day by their original captain-Mad Charles."  
  
"But what? I know we're running illegal with rum and such, but half the ships in the Caribbean do the same. That couldn't be what they were looking for, he believes there's something else..." she then found herself thinking back.  
  
Picking up his wine glass, Will took a sip and then fought the question he wanted to ask, but the feel of the well worn leather pouch resting against his chest made him continue. " 'Is' there something else?"  
  
Cocking her head to the side, Catherine looked to the man with a mixture of emotions. "Are you insinuating that there is?"  
  
"Should I?"  
  
Taking her own wineglass in hand, she took a long sip hoping to silence the anger that was flaring within her. "I think that considering my future lies in the sale of what's in the cargo hold and nothing more, I'm rather certain that there is nothing else. Why do you accuse me?"  
  
"I've done no such thing," Will replied, feeling quite guilty for he had done exactly that. But the truth was, he wished to find her at fault, in a lie, anything to stop himself for feeling the feelings that were flittering on the edge of his being.  
  
Nodding her head, Catherine let the subject drop then brought up something much more personal. "Will, what has..." she waved her hand about the cabin, "between us, you nor I are obligated to anything but...that." Feeling quite proud of herself at keeping her voice relatively even-mostly, she avoided his gaze.  
  
Will thought he'd feel a great sense of relief at her words, but something inside him was angry, possessive, but he'd not let her see this-never. "I agree. Pleasures of the flesh...nothing more and no obligations."  
  
Raising his glass in her direction, Catherine did the same. Both said not a word while making the pact, for there was an oddity in the air and feeling between them. An oddity that one had truly never experienced and the other had thought certain to never experience again.  
  



	13. Chapter 13

  
  
It was but one day out from the Isle of Kinset, but the Engloria was dead in the water. The tradewinds had deserted the ship most suddenly and it sat without the slightest wrinkle to the sails. Many a man of the sea would have thought it a bad omen, but those on board had learned long ago that not everything was as it seemed. It had been this way for the past day and a half. By looking at the crystalline blue sky with no hint of a cloud to be spotted, it seemed as if they were stuck where they drifted.  
  
Without the wind to cool the hot, humid days, it was next to impossible to function without breaking out in a sweat and risking heatstroke under strenuous conditions. Will had ordered the crew to rest up during the day under canvas strewn about as makeshift shelter and to complete duties in the early morning and late evening.  
  
Even sleeping down below was impossible and everyone, including Catherine, had taken to sleeping topside, hoping for that lone trickle of air to cool an overheated body.  
  
It was during the last two nights that Will Turner found it next to impossible to gain a good night's sleep. As the near moonless night sky blanketed them, he watched the woman across from him rest.  
  
Funny how things look differently in another light and another situation. In slumber, Will could watch Catherine without disturbance. It was then he found his emotions raging with his stubbornness to not let go of his feelings. After all, did they not agree that their physical relations were just that, leaving no emotions to be involved-neither wished for that? Or did they?  
  
Sighing heavily, Catherine shifted upon the deck, her pillow the crook of a bare arm for she'd stripped down to her shift as she slept atop a sheet, her only privacy that of a blanket to shield her from the rest of the crew.  
  
Quirking a brow, Will found himself irritated. The only woman he'd ever loved was Elizabeth Swann, there could be no others, he had always been most certain of that. However, now, the woman near him was making him cast doubt on that declaration of years ago. Damn her.  
  
"They're beautiful," Catherine laughed, leaning over the side of the ship, watching two dolphins frolic in the near waveless water down below.  
  
Stout smirked quite proudly at being able to make the lady laugh with glee. "Aye, and they can be your best friend in dire times as well."  
  
Shielding her eyes with a hand above her brow, Catherine turned to look at the rotund man beside her. "How so?"  
  
"There are many a tale of survivors of shipwrecks that were saved by a dolphin," he explained, watching the two before them chase and annoy a passing sea turtle.  
  
"Really? Is this truth, Stout? Or pirate's amusements?"  
  
"Miss Catherine, 'tis truth. I've seen it me self. There are even written records of dolphins saving some from shark attack..."  
  
"...And many a lonely sailor who called them a mermaid of the sea," Will interjected, passing by and slipping his shirt off, hoping to keep cool.  
  
Will Turner might have managed to find himself feeling cooler, but Catherine Kent was finding it quite difficult to cool down, let alone take her eyes off his bronzed skin.  
  
"Oh?" Catherine muttered, more at the sight than the remark.  
  
Stout had continued talking before finally realizing that the woman beside him was not looking at the same thing he was and he couldn't help but chuckle. "He needs a good woman like you to bring him back."  
  
"I don't think I'm the one, Stout," she replied softly, the ache within her belly returning. "It's just not that way between us."  
  
"Bah! I've seen the way ye look at the boy, and he you. Quit yer denying and living in the past-the both of you, and see what's right there before your bloody eyes," he demanded, sounding quite upset before walking away. "The damnable lot of ye are too stubborn for your own good."  
  
Even Will turned upon hearing the raised voice.  
  
Staring dumbly at the retreating man, Catherine didn't quite know what to think. "Anything wrong?" Will asked, silently walking to her side, standing just inches away and speaking in a low voice.  
  
Looking up into his face, she shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure. But I think Stout is rather upset with me...you...us."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"I think he wants us to get...well, to get together in all senses," she stammered, feeling that tightening in her throat upon the mention and thoughts that it provoked.  
  
It was Will's turn to shake his head and shrug his shoulders. "It's none of his or anybody else's business what arrangements we have between us," he shot back, lowering his voice so as not to be overheard. "I'm the bloody captain..."  
  
Placing a hand to his chest, Catherine shook her head and finished his thoughts. "Don't do it, Will. I know Stout means well, but don't go making some grand statement about how your business is 'your' business. These men might be your crew, loyal to a fault to you, but they care about you...just let it be...for now."  
  
Harshly rubbing his slightly stubbled cheek, Will shook his head in exasperation before walking away in total silence.  
  
tbc 


	14. Chapter 14

  
  
Strong arms unsuspectingly wrapped about her waist, bringing her body roughly against a hard, male being. The slight gasp of surprise at the actions, only made Will grin most devilishly that evening as he stood hidden behind the deckhouse, the two lovers out of sight.  
  
"You startled me," Catherine giggled deeply, sinking into his tight embrace as she ran her hands along the breadth of his shoulders, eyeing him naughtily.  
  
With his hands now threading themselves through her hair, pulling the tendrils loose from their confines, Will smirked while eyeing her most luridly. "Couldn't help myself, love," he confessed, not noticing the easy slip of the tongue. "It's been forever since I've had you all to my own."  
  
But Catherine did notice, and it sent a thrill down her spine to hear that endearing word. A thrill like no other she'd experienced in her life. "Captain Turner, then why don't you shut up and kiss me while we have a..."  
  
He did just that, not allowing her to finish her thoughts as he claimed her lips fiercely.  
  
A loud, rather disgruntled clearing of a throat instantly brought the two lovers apart. "Sir, begging your pardon for the intrusion," Stout apologized, obviously still annoyed at the two, "but Red Roof and I were thinking a little music and dancin' would be most welcome tonight."  
  
Will, looking nearly like a schoolboy caught behind the building with his first lass, nodded his head in agreement. "I think it would be more than welcome," he agreed, hearing the other man grunt and mumble under his breath before backing away.  
  
"He really is upset with us," Catherine murmured, watching Stout leave.  
  
Ignoring the remark, ignoring the gnawing in his chest at what Stout obviously was eluding to earlier and then his pensiveness now, Will placed his hand to Catherine's chin, tilting her face to him. "I hope you enjoy dancing, Miss Kent. Because these boys will be most energetic tonight, even in this heat. You do have your dancing shoes on, right?"  
  
Catherine glanced to her feet before he once more tilted her face to him and she noticed the charming smile he gave her. It was in that moment she spied much more than deeply amused dark eyes. In those orbs she saw a man that was no longer just living day by day and he didn't even realize it of yet. What had she gotten herself into?  
  
"Enough, enough!" Catherine laughed in exhaustion as Red Roof twirled her about in time with the music. So fast in fact that she feared that if he let go of her hands, she'd tumble overboard.  
  
Red Roof grinned a toothy grin and slowed down, finally releasing her, but in her drunken haze-from dance and drink, she continued to spin slowly about till Will caught her about the waist. "You dance quite wonderfully when given the right partner," he chuckled, teasing Red Roof who laughed raucously back.  
  
Waving her hand in the hopes of getting more air to herself, Catherine smiled brightly. "It's been a long, long time since I've had this much fun at a dance," she explained, the music slowing to a melody of a sweet, languid tune.  
  
"May I have the honor of this next dance?" Will asked, slowly righting the woman as he stood and bowed most properly in her direction while the men 'whooped' their approval, much to the couples' chagrin.  
  
"I'd love to," she agreed. Then in the starlight and the smattering of lantern light, Will Turner and Catherine Kent danced slowly together for the first time. "You know, I think the last dance I went to was...I can't even remember when it was it's been that long ago."  
  
"Bet you've never been serenaded by a group of ruffians before, nor in a privateers arms while dancing on the deck of a ship. Not that grand or regal, is it?" Will remarked, there was no malice in his words, just fact.  
  
As he slowly spun her about in time to the tune provided by impromptu instruments, Catherine smiled a smile that took the man's breath away. "No governor's ball, or some such could compare to this evening. Tonight is much more grand in my opinion...and the company more lively and warm."  
  
"Is it so?" He cocked his head curiously, a grin upon his face.  
  
"Very much so," she sighed before the two danced in comfortable silence till the tune finally ended and they took a seat along the railing, watching and listening as the other men drank and told tales of outlandish adventures. The laughter about the night air was enchanting, and it's web drifting lazily about those aboard made them forget their circumstances-if but for those hours.  
  
It was while the music played that the wind began to stir and by first light, the tradewinds had returned and the sails unfurled.  
  
Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Catherine slowly sat up, mindful of the men busy about her. They'd let her sleep while readying the boat to sail once again. She had been exhausted the night before and by the end of the evening, was dancing barefoot, no matter if one or two of the men had stepped on her toes and apologized profusely in doing so.  
  
"We were beginning to wonder if you'd sleep all day," Will grinned, standing at the wheel, Catherine nearly at his feet, she'd been curled on the deck, amidst a mass of roping, where she'd dropped the night before.  
  
Blinking to get used to the assault of sunshine after such a cozy sleep, which was well induced by too much dancing and too much rum, she glanced to her lover and yawned. "Too much excitement..."  
  
"And too much drink..." Will teased before being interrupted by Red Roof who was bringing her out a cup of tea, made especially for her by Stout.  
  
"...She'll 'ave to learn to hold her brew like the rest 'o us did. But Miss Cathie sure made us proud o' 'er dancin' skills and 'er beginners tippin' the mug."  
  
Taking the steaming cup of tea from his hands, she nodded her thanks, grinned at Red Roof, smirked teasingly at Will, then took a sip of the blend and sighed contently.  
  
"Thank you," Catherine finally spoke up in reply.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Will looked to the horizon and spotted a lone seagull. "We should be in Isle of Kinset come morning," he remarked.  
  
Catherine's stomach felt as if it was suddenly lead and she stopped sipping her tea. "That's...good news, indeed," she said in monotone, watching the gull glide down to rest upon the water.  
  
"Indeed it is," Will agreed, his features going blank.  
  
Red Roof watched the two and only shook his head before disappearing.  
  
"Miss Kent...Catherine, just who is your buyer on Kinset?" Will asked, the thought had occurred to inquire earlier, but at the time he was still too busy trying to consider what side this beautiful woman was playing upon.  
  
Closing her eyes while thinking, "I believe it's a Mr. George Barnaby."  
  
Nodding his head, Will frowned. "Have you heard of Mr. Barnaby before?"  
  
"No, why?"  
  
"Catherine, let me make the deal."  
  
Getting to her feet, the blonde haired woman considered the request and was taken off guard. "Why? What do you know about Barnaby? All I could find out was that he was a merchant of..."  
  
"...Of high value goods," Will spoke up. "He's a dangerous man, Catherine. He delves in any and all illegal trades...including slaves. I don't want you anywhere near the man."  
  
Furrowing her brow, Catherine considered the request. "If he is this...this...well, if Barnaby is this notorious maybe we should find another buyer for our cargo."  
  
Laughing outright, Will couldn't help but see the annoyance and anger flair in the woman before him. "Love, you don't just make deals with some scoundrel and then change your mind. Barnaby would hunt you down. In his mind, this cargo was his the moment your husband made the deal and you sealed the fate by delivering it. The man would put a knife in your back for reneging on the venture-it's a wonder he hasn't done such of yet," he remarked, then his eyes went dark as more and more pieces of the puzzle in his mind fell slowly into place.  
  
Sighing heavily, Catherine conceded the point. "Catherine, did your husband deal with Barnaby on a regular basis?"  
  
Shrugging her shoulders, the woman looked rather clueless. "I honestly don't know. Charles never told me much of his trade-which has become rather obvious during this trip. But, if you like, I do have some of his account ledgers. I found them stashed in a hidden compartment of the desk."  
  
"And you didn't say anything?" Will asked incredulously.  
  
"Well no, what was I to say? I figured they were just...well, what I have managed to read so far, he took in quite a few high value deals. But seems he'd spent more than he'd made on some things along the way...can't figure out quite what his scribbling means," she informed, watching as Will called Bevins over to man the wheel.  
  
"Take me below, I wish to see these accounts," he said with worry, not noticing the look of concern that she gave him.  
  
"Will, what is going on? There's something you're not telling me. Something that you've not told me for a very long time," she added, much to his apprehension.  
  
Taking the woman by the hand, he led her down below. "Please, Catherine, the ledgers."  
  
Relenting to drop the subject for the time being, she opened her cabin door and as he shut the door behind him, she stepped to the desk, opening a side drawer and pressed a pressure point-a knot in the wood, as a hidden panel opened and she reached inside.  
  
"Here," she acknowledged, taking the three ledgers and placing them to the desk where Will quickly sat. "I happened to stumble upon them quite by mistake the other day."  
  
Within minutes he was totally absorbed in the books and paying no attention to his surroundings. Taking a quick glance at the dark-haired man once more, Catherine decided to wash her hair and dress for the day, keeping busy and out of the way for he looked to already be deeply involved.  
  
tbc 


	15. Chapter 15

  
  
The candle was burning low when Will leaned back in the chair, arms stretching languidly over his head as he groaned softly. It had taken him hours to scour the three hidden books and then compare them to what was supposed to be the legitimate entries. In truth, what lay hidden in the desk was the real thing, the other, doctored to let those who would dare question, see what Charles Hyde wanted them to see.  
  
Many of the entries were in some sort of code. But there were a few he managed to decipher and from the looks of things, Charles Hyde was non-discriminate in who he swindled and even more loose with who he made dealings with.  
  
It was also while reading the ledgers that something Will, and most others who knew of Charles Hyde, had always heard and suspected, was proven to be correct. "Damn him," Will muttered under his breath, glancing over to see Catherine sleeping peacefully atop the bunk. The book she had been reading slipped through her hands to land upon the floor nearly an hour ago.  
  
Standing, stretching tired and abused muscles, the handsome man took the leather from his hair and then combed his fingers through it, brushing it back. With one last deep breath, he knew that his decision had been wrong and he'd have to tell her everything, but how could he? How could he cause her such pain?  
  
Blowing out the nub of a candle upon the desk, the soft, familiar sounds of the ship were soothing to him and he briefly closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of it as it wrapped about him like a warm embrace. He had missed life aboard ship more than he dared imagine. Oh, how he'd missed this life.  
  
Quietly, he made his way across quarters, grabbing an apple left over from dinner as he passed the table and went to check on happenings aboard ship before retiring for the night.  
  
It was odd really, Will felt as if he were standing amidst a raging storm with the way his mind and emotions were battling with one another. After checking on the ship, he headed down below and straight to the Captain's quarters where Catherine had been staying. There was no thought involved with his ending up there, it just happened.  
  
Not until Will sat at the edge of the bunk to take off his boots did he realize what he'd unconsciously done and it startled him. However, on the opposite hand, it gave him great comfort.  
  
Stopping what he was doing, he leaned forward, elbows braced upon his knees while lowly bowing his head, his hands raking roughly through his hair. He'd not thought twice about being by this woman's side-it wasn't right. Or was it?  
  
The soft murmur and the teasing touch of fingertips upon his bare back made him hang his head lower while sighing softly. "That feels good," he confessed, her touch upon his skin soothing and enchanting.  
  
"You look tired. Are you just getting through with the ledgers?" Catherine asked sleepily, pushing herself up, leaning upon an elbow to glance around him, hoping to see his face.  
  
Turning, the weary smile he gave her warmed her heart. "Come to bed."  
  
"I should really go back to my..."  
  
"Propriety was tossed out the window a while back," she smiled, earning her a raised brow. "Stay here, please."  
  
Thinking momentarily about her request, Will slowly stood, stripped out of his remaining clothes and boots and slipped under the covers.  
  
"Just rest," Catherine urged, her hair spilling across his chest as they snuggled together in the small bunk.  
  
The feel of her hand gently grazing across his belly calmed something deep within his soul, as he couldn't resist the urge to close his eyes and breathe in her nearness.  
  
"Shhh..." she whispered against his skin, kissing his chest.  
  
Even as the embrace of sleep eased Will to peaceful dreams, he leaned down and placed a kiss upon the crown of her golden head.  
  
Sadly, he never saw the flicker of pain that crossed her eyes before she took a soft breath and went to sleep herself.  
  
The Isle of Kinset was like an emerald glowing in the midst of warm, blue, tropical waters. From a distance, it looked clearly as if it was uninhabited from the denseness of the palm trees. But the closer the ship approached, there could be seen docks and a small coastal town.  
  
Anchoring the ship just off harbor, not wanting to get too close for many reasons, Will ordered the long boat over the side and was calling Stout and Bevins over to him when Catherine approached.  
  
"Don't even think it, William Turner," Catherine threatened, standing her ground.  
  
"Think what?" he asked, the tone of his voice displaying his irritation.  
  
"You know bloody well what you were planning to do because you left right after we made...you left without a word. You were going to leave me here and make a deal with Barnaby yourself, weren't you?"  
  
Stout at first looked rather embarrassed, while Bevins found his tattered boots most interesting. Then Stout grinned a big jowly grin of pride at how this woman was standing up to the captain.  
  
Placing his hands on her shoulders, Will took a deep, calming breath. "You do not need to go into town. I'll make the deal with Barnaby. You agreed to this earlier this morning before we..." he insisted, lowering his voice on that last remark.  
  
Catherine looked to Stout who quickly turned away and whistled while glancing at the pristine sky while Bevins still stared at his boots. "I know what I said this morning," she answered back in a soft voice. "I said you could do the dealing with Barnaby. But that didn't mean you were going to leave me on this ship."   
  
"Catherine, it's too dangerous. You don't know what type of man Barnaby is, he's ruthless and from what I read in those ledgers, he's probably a damned partner of your damned husband. Plus, near as I can figure, your bloody husband was stealing from Barnaby," Will said with irritation.  
  
Green eyes narrowed upon the dark-haired man as she shrugged out of his grasp. "You're not leaving me behind," was all she stated while crossing her arms over her chest, but there was a determination to her voice and in her stance that made Will Turner take notice.  
  
Grunting in dissatisfaction, Will held up his hands in surrender and shook his head. "Fine, do what you will. Obviously you won't listen to reason...or you wouldn't even be here in the Caribbean, you'd be back in the Carolina's or London or some bloody other place," he snapped, storming away from her, Bevins, and Stout.  
  
Catherine watched as Will gathered a few items, all the while he grumped and muttered to himself. "The lad is right, Miss Catherine. Barnaby is a dangerous man-if you forgive me for overhearin' that little conversation."  
  
Taking a deep breath, Catherine nodded her head. "I know," she confessed, watching as Bevins went to join the captain.  
  
"He's only trying to keep ye safe."  
  
"I know that too," she whispered, never taking her eyes off the man in question.  
  
"He don't want to lose ye like he did...well, he just don't."  
  
"Sometimes, Stout...nevermind," she stumbled, choking back the words. In her heart, she didn't want to lose Will either, but they'd made the pact. No emotions, no feelings allowed, they were to part ways upon the delivery of goods to the Isle of Kinset-and here sat Kinset.  
  
"Best be gettin' your traveling gear, Miss," Stout urged as Catherine looked at him suspiciously.  
  
Groaning deeply, Stout held up his hand. "Swear to ye, Miss Catherine, I won't let the lad leave without you," he vowed, watching as she nodded her head in understanding before hurriedly heading below to grab a few things.  
  



	16. Chapter 16

"...Not one word, do you hear me?" Will emphasized as they approached the designated meeting spot, the 'Crosswinds Pub'.

"Agreed," she replied. "Well, what am I to say if he asks me a direct question?"

"Just answer it as best...just be vague...like you were with me when we first met."

Shrugging her shoulders, Catherine understood. "I can do that," she grinned, watching as the man nearly stumbled after he glanced back at her.

"You, behave," he ordered, trying to sound stern but it was quite difficult with the woman looking as good as she did and with that naughty smile on her lips.

"I will," she swore. "Anything else?"

Rolling his eyes, Will muttered unintelligently again.

"What was that?" Catherine asked, finding his reaction most endearing.

"I said...stay close. There will be all kinds of filth in that place, I don't want you hurt or...I just don't want to lose sight of you in the pub, that's all."

"Believe me, I'm not planning to stray far," she informed, sounding a bit unsettled.

Will couldn't help but look to her and realize that for the first time, she was actually voicing her fearfulness, something he'd never heard her do before-not in this open a manner, at least.

"It'll be fine. Just keep on guard, let me do all the talking and watch yourself," he reiterated, taking her hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Catherine nodded her head in agreement as the 'Crosswinds' pub came into view. It was hardly what she expected for it looked no more than a rundown shack in the middle of this small town. But Will didn't seem phased in the least as they entered the dimly lit dwelling.

Looking about as their eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Will led Catherine to the bar, asking if there was a man by the name of Barnaby that frequented the place. The only reply he received was a grunt and a jerky head movement towards the back of the place and a man sitting at a lone table along a dark alcove.

The moment they stepped into the alcove, dark eyes looked up at them. The man most definitely looked out of place. He was dressed head to toe in black and at first resembled a clergyman, but upon closer inspection, one realized that the quality of his apparel was none finer. Obviously the man wore only the best, possibly the latest fashion out of London.

"Are you Barnaby?" Will questioned, Catherine standing by his side.

"Who's asking?" He drawled in a deep voice.

"I'm asking, we've brought your shipment...a bit overdue because of unforeseen circumstances involving a Mr. Charles Hyde. But arrived, it has," he explained, eyeing the man before him critically.

Raising the mug of ale to his lips and taking a long draught, Barnaby, his midnight colored hair tied so tightly back from his face that the harshness of his features were near gaunt, smiled into his mug before setting it down.

"I see, quite unfortunate for Charles," he remarked, the look in his eyes showed amusement. "So, tell me..."

"William Pence," Will offered, hoping Catherine wouldn't flinch at the use of another name. Which she didn't.

"...Mr. Pence, then. Tell me, are you here to collect on what you feel is due? Or did you deliver-said goods-here from the bottom of your heart and wish a hearty thank you?" the man smirked.

"No, 'I' am here to collect on what is due the delivery of 'said goods'," Catherine spoke up, Will's displeasure quite evident on his face.

"And you would be?" Barnaby asked in peaked curiosity, eyeing the woman quite wolfishly, as he looked her up and down, lingering quite blatantly on her breasts.

"I am Charles' wife..."

"You perhaps would be the beautiful...Catherine?"

"Yes, I am Catherine," she answered, squaring her shoulders. "I've come to collect on the shipment."

"Never be it said that I would do anything to deter or upset such a lovely lady. As you wish," Barnaby agreed a little too readily for Will's tastes. "I'll have my men come out to the ship-I'm assuming the Engloria, correct?"

"Correct...and no need to have your men come to the ship. We'll deliver the goods to the beach on the far side of the island. You know where I'm speaking of," Will interrupted, watching as the pale, thin man looked at him and smiled.

"Very well then, as you wish. Mr Pence, I take it you've been to Kinset before, then?"

"Shall we say, I've visited once or twice...midnight, Mr Barnaby, you'll receive your shipment and we'll receive payment."

With that, Will placed his hand to the small of Catherine's back and urged her about. "Excuse me, Catherine was it? You startled me, I wasn't sure which Mrs. Hyde you might be...forgiveness," the dark man apologized with the venom intended to sting.

Will could feel the breath nearly leaving Catherine's lungs as he tried to guide her outside, but there was no use for she quickly turned about and faced the smug man.

"What are you trying to say?" She demanded, anger marred her voice.

"Many pardons, Madame. I see you did not know that Charles had another wife...or I assumed they were married...I could be incorrect, but I rarely am. A nice native girl, very beautiful in an exotic way. You did not know? My regrets," he apologized, bowing his head in mock emotion.

"You lying bastard," Catherine snapped before Will roughly took her by the arm and led her to the door.

"We need to talk," Will calmly voiced, the two walking back to the long boat resting against the sandy shore where two of his men were waiting.

Catherine didn't say a word; her face betraying nothing as she hurriedly walked.

"Catherine, Barnaby just wanted to rattle you, see what you were made of," he explained, gesturing with his arms in a wide sweeping manner but she paid no attention.

Quickening his step to catch up to her, Will suddenly grabbed her by the arm, stopping her angered steps. "Just leave me alone...please," she near pleaded, he could see the hurt in her eyes.

Placing his hand to her cheek, she instinctively leaned into his touch, briefly closing her eyes. "I'm sorry...I had my suspicions that Charles Hyde might have...in the ledgers there were..."

Eyes widening in disbelief, Catherine pulled from his touch and looked at the man before her. "You knew?"

Arms at his side, Will looked every bit as miserable as she did. "I had heard rumor. I didn't know for fact...till last night. I was going to tell you, I swear this," he insisted as she looked skeptical, as if the last person in the world she held faith in had now betrayed her as well.

"Were you? Or did you find some amusement to hearing me speak of my 'wonderful' life?" she mockingly demanded.

"It wasn't like that. Now that I've grown to know you and I've fallen...it wasn't like that at all, Catherine," he tried to convince as the two stood in the open, people walking about ignoring them as if such an argument was an every day occurrence-which it probably was.

"I gave that bloody bastard so many years of my life...and for this?" She near shouted, raising her arms and gesturing to the air. "In the beginning I might have loved him, I'm not honestly sure now, but that obviously wasn't enough for two-let alone one," she laughed out loud.

Will wanted to step closer but knew she'd start like a wild animal. She needed to get the rage and the pain out and he was willing to bear the brunt of it all if it helped her deal.

"Damn Charles!" She spat, fighting back tears of hurt and anger, not wanting to allow that satisfaction to her dead husband. "He left me alone more times than naught. I wondered if he were alive or dead, if he would grow to love me in time...I waited, did what everyone expected of me, the dutiful wife..."

She took a few steps and halted once more. "...Yet all he did was mock me by...by...damn him! I was young, I didn't stand up to him, and I let him do this to me. I allowed it. My grandmother insisted that's how proper ladies lived their lives... miserably."

Will looked pained as tortured green eyes rested upon him. "Why didn't you tell me? You said enough in the beginning to taunt me with 'who' my husband was to shatter many illusions...but why didn't you later tell me of your suspicions?"

Taking a slow, deep breath, Will reached for her and she momentarily resisted his touch, but soon fell into his embrace. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I swear to you, I intended to say something but...I...you...damn Charles Hyde to hell and back."

Catherine laughed quite unexpectedly at the utterance before breaking free of her lover's tight embrace as she once again headed to the awaiting long boat.

It was then that William Turner knew for certain that the secrets and doubts he'd been harboring could possibly cause more harm than first thought-to himself. But it was a risk he had to take for the pain he saw in Catherine's eyes would haunt him if he did not take that step.

When had things become so complicated?

tbc 


End file.
